It started after the show
The curtain fell and the lights went down
And now they say it's time for you to go
There's no-one left in the ballroom
The only ones left inside
Are the ghosts of all the actors
To whom you never have time
To wish goodbye
And now you see
How it's gonna be
And it's gonna be your nightmare
And now you see
How it's gonna be
And it ain't no fuckin' picnic down here
And if I find you
Waiting here for me
When I get back home
And if I find you waiting
Waiting on the other side
With Kool-aid and your Pumas on
Trees in a blood-red sky
The dirt smells like leaves from last year
I remember you standing there
Just like the photo I took
Then I cannot look at anymore
Stacked in shoeboxes by the fire
Awaiting their destruction at my hands
Empty shoeboxes burning higher
Burning, blowing ashes in the sand
And if I find you
Waiting here for me
When I get back home
And if I find you waiting
Waiting on the other side
With Kool-aid and your Pumas on
And you just arrived
But you know that you've been here before
So pull out your knife
And carve your steaming carcass on the floor
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