After Hours

Watching everybody leaving
I tell myself
Looks can be deceiving
But I'm hoping that I'm not dead right
There's after hours afterlife
And I'm not prepared to die in style tonight
Tried to follow you out but I didn't know
Who you'd be leading on
And you might think people don't live
Through being dead wrong
I guess that your parents must have raised themselves
A strictly pious daughter 'cause you
Move through this crowd just like parting water
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