I remember your hands at the funeral home
So cold and vacant
Just like your face as you layed there alone
And the care-taker tried,
He tried so hard
You were covered in cover-up
I stood at the foot of your casket and thought-

It's no wonder why she retreated
Just like the veins in your arms
In fear of forming more scar tissue and puncture wounds

Is it sad to say the things that I remember
The most are your blacked our phone calls?
Oh how you gave up your life
Your kids and your wife
All for the needles and pills that you needed so much

It's alright it's OK, we're better off this way

It's no wonder why I remember your hands at the funeral home
So cold and vacant
Just like the shadows where you lived alone
It's no wonder why I wasn't surprised
When the coroner called three weeks later
And told us you over-dosed on methadone
It's no wonder why