Watching everybody leavin'   I tell myself, looks can be deceivin'   Oh, I'm hopin' 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 leadin' on   And you might think people   Don't live through bein' dead wrong      Well, I guess that   Your parents must have raised   Themselves a strictly pious daughter   'Cause you move through this crowd   Just like partin' water      Oh, you dress so nice   You dress to kill   They drop like flies   But who's the funeral for?      After a while these hot, hot nights   Can turn everything sour   Oh, I know it's not hard to get   In trouble after hours      After a while these hot, hot nights   Can turn everything sour   I know it's not hard to get   In trouble after hours