Tommy Boys - Estate Sale lyrics

It's too early to hang our heads Sunken eyes set in Under your skin I'm counting ways to make a mess of... Things I say that I don't mean are catching up with me In a sweet charade, an iron gate playing a fence I might end up entering What is space not meant to see Hallways misinforming you All the while I'm clearing spaces on shelves Helps me find it Misery, estate sale digging on a Saturday You got sick of dining alone It gnaws at the bones within you With marrow crushing your teeth Stuck on the outside looking in through window pains Tangled up, solid chains Buried in coffee cans No rest for anyone following the grave Makes you sick to your stomach I might end up entering Misery, estate sale digging on a Saturday