Lyrics:

Cry to me from wooden benches, purses

Close and sew your pretty eyes shut

It's your funeral from 1 to 3

They never knew you were suicidal

You tried a hundred dresses on but

You're not feeling all that bridal



Dead love, I never meant to lay you out

Dead love, what's hunting you down

Has turned me around



Languidly beside me keeping granite hands

On polished granite shoulders

It's your funeral from 1 to 3

They never knew you were still deciding

Some traded you for sympathy

Some were never worth inviting



Dead love, I never meant to lay you out

Dead love, what's hunting you down

Has turned me around



Long before you love was at my door

The letter was dated but can't resurrect what you mean



One down, one for the team