When you're dead and buried
With a smile painted on your face
Your eulogy, like poetry
Flowers overwhelming the wake
Where I'm sure as in your life there will be
Beautiful women there in your death
Crying out they swear they will love you until
Their very own last dying breath

'Cause you just have this way of charming those
Who catch your eye like shiny things
With a face made for daytime TV shows
You're a nightmare disguised as a good dream

When she wants a garden, you give her a rose
Just the taste of something you could give her but you won't
When she wants a garden, you give her a rose
And you know it

But you just have your ways, what with all of those
Grotesque displays of love you show
Ripped from pages of books, every word which you know
And recite back to them as if they were your own
I feel sorry for them because how could they know?
'Til they've died by your hands, 'til they've felt the cold
Cut of your sharp tongue, with your delusions of grandeur
Yea you give nothing and think it too much

And when she wants a garden, you give her a rose
And I'll bet you have to hide your grin
As you watch it die in your arms
When she wants a garden, you give her a rose
And you know it

When you've dearly departed
There will be all those broken-hearted
But I'll have a smile painted on my face
There's a spot in the grass
Waiting for you at
Whispering Glades
And Hollywood suits you, darling I think
You should stay