Country House

In a country house with the windows lit by burning wicks

And the walls held up by wood and bricks and ghosts that wander through

An old man died, but the help won’t come till monday next

And he’s gone to meet the architects of the only world he knew

And he’s lonesome

And the family mourned, at the wake he lay in front of them

Just as silent as he’d ever been to any young child’s eyes

And by buried skin, they shed their laughter and their tears

The pain of all those early years where innocence had died

But now they’re lonesome

Memorials that we may build

They won’t the holes forever fill

There is a deep and aching chill

That settles in our bones

’Cause we’re lonesome

Did you ever love somebody?

Did you ever lose someone?

’Cause we’re lonesome

In a country house with the windows all lit up