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