Now you're looking at the people around us and say, "man, what a beautiful house" You say "there's more to life than growing old with children you can't tolerate" Now I see you're more macabre than ever as we walk across the hall I say "there's more to life than complaining about the things out of your control" And I know you're barely holding on Please stay with me, I need you more now that he's gone So you and I, will go outside And we'll detest the folks who laugh instead of cry We'll key their cars In the Parking Lot Of the church we spent the latter of our lives