After Hours Phantom Planet

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Watching everybody leaving
I tell myself looks can be deceiving
Oh, 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 did not know
Who 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 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?

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
Oh, I know it's not hard
To get in trouble after hours