Watching everybody leaving,
I tell myself, "Looks can be deceiving."
Oh, I´m hoping that I´m not dead right
This after hours, afterlife
I´m not ready to die in style tonight.

Tried to follow you out,
But I did not know where you´d be leading on,
And you might think people don´t live through being dead wrong.
Well I guess that your parents must have raised a themselves 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?

Afterwhile these hot, hot nights can turn everything sour
Oh, I know it´s not hard to get in trouble after hours.