Chasing After My Bones

I am not the devil under the water
Pulling you down by your own wooden ankles
Splitting and shriveling, seeping out of me
God, I'm afraid of the songs you've been singing me
God, I cannot hear your voice quite so clearly
And I am the walls crumbling down
We are clearly the saints, no, we are not afraid
Names cannot be engraved in the sand
I am just a sinner pulling my splinters out
Chipping away at a crackling flame
But I felt my shoulders begin to get lighter
When I realized that it all would get harder than this
But I don't believe in the surface
We can't see through the sheets, no, we are not asleep
I will not be the leaves on your tree
And I am the tides
I'm the beggar left for dead on the sides
And I am the walls (crumbling down)
Watching me fall through the windows of saints
Oh, they're making me into something I am not
Your brother got killed in the snow while you slept
But you never grew out of those secrets you kept
To keep all his light-headed hoping alive
Carried for miles inside of your mind
Now I'm writing down all of my saintly complaints
And pulling the strings they've attached to my face
But I'm done haunting houses and cursing at God
And filling up spaces with black and white fog
I saw my whole life in the glass on the floor
Well, what'd you think all of that shaking was for
Well I'm floating down stream chasing after my bones
Well I guess I grew old, but I never went home