Like a stain on a hardwood floor
Or a slurpy machine at a liquor store
Wonder how I'll ever come to leave this place

Like a priest on Saturday night
Or a dog in a kennel on a redeye flight
It often seems the only thing that I can do is wait

'Cause it isn't safe
It isn't safe
To live outside yourself

Is this the way you thought that things would be
Living half alive, but mostly asleep
In the corner there's some trim that needs a coat

There was a funeral procession on the freeway
Fancy cars, orange stickers, lining up in the slow lane
Dresses, men in suits, and solemn faces, and ties

And everybody wanted to go home
But they had this feeling God was watching so they all kept on
Stepped on the gas and stayed in line

And when they stopped
We all got out
And we put you in the ground

And it's funny 'cause it's always been this way
When you die you get to leave, everyone else has to stay
Think of things to do to fill the time 'till the end of the day

And for the rest of their lifetime
Worry that sometimes
They both feel exactly the same

But like a show that was over before they hit the lights
Or some fool with a knife in the middle of a gunfight
Maybe I'm just jumping ahead of myself