[ Featuring Watchhouse ]
The kids are in town for a funeral
+
So pack the car and dry your eyes
+
I know they got plenty of young blood left in 'em
+
And plenty nights under pink skies you taught 'em to enjoy
+
So clean the house, clear the drawers, mop the floors, stand tall
+
Like no one's ever been here before or at all
+
And don't you mention all the inches that are scraped on the doorframe
+
We all know you tiptoed up to 4'1" back in '08
+
If you could see 'em now, you'd be proud
+
But you'd think they's yuppies
+
Your funeral was beautiful
+
I bet God heard you comin'
+
The kids are in town for a funeral
+
And the grass all smells the same as the day you broke your arm swingin'
+
On that kid out on the river
+
You bailed him out, never said a thing about Jesus or the way he's livin'
+
If you could see 'em now, you'd be proud
+
But you'd think they's yuppies
+
Your funeral was beautiful
+
I bet God heard you comin'
+
If you could see 'em now, you'd be proud
+
But you'd think they's yuppies
+
Your funeral was beautiful
+
I bet God heard you comin'
+
The kids are in town for a funeral
+
So pack the car and dry your eyes
+
I know they got plenty young blood left in 'em
+
And plenty nights under pink skies you taught 'em to enjoy
+
Recall your hats, erase the claim like who gets to ride shotgun
+
Your pocket knife, it went missin', I think we know who got that one
+
You used to let her cut the ribbons on all of her own presents
+
It made me nervous, but now I see we're just taught different lessons
+
