Watching everybody leaving

I tell myself looks can be deceiving

Oh I'm hoping that I'm not dead right

There's afterhours after life

And I'm not prepared to die in style tonight

Tried to follow you out but I did not know who you were

Leading on

And you might think people don't live through being dead wrong

I guess that your parents must have raised

Themseles a strictly pious daughter

'Cause you move through this crowd just like parting water

Oh you dress so nice

You dress to kill

They drop like flies

But who's the funeral for?