After Hours - Phantom Planet
Watching everybody leaving
I tell myselfLooks 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
