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I know my way to your new place From the cemetery gates like the back of my hand Knows the distance to my heartbreak I park the car and I greet your new neighbors I read their epitaphs, I call in favors I brought some flowers and a six-pack of beer Hope you don't mind if I just talk, drink, and sit here Feels like there's so much that I can tell ya How the world keeps spinning with or without ya Your New York Mets are a tragedy It was a total shutout at the Subway Series I watched with Mom in the nursing home Told her I've been sitting here Talking to your tombstone Talking to your tombstone Talking to your tombstone, woah Talking to your tombstone Well, I've been looking for a job, but they're hard to find When you've never been the people type But now I'm desperate and my money's getting tight Most nights it gets so damn dark in my mind But today I went up to the Post Office in town Where me and the mailman chatted in fiction SongtexteLike, "What would you do with a million dollars? What car would you drive? Where would you live?" Told him I'd move back to Marine Park, Brooklyn Buy back that little home that we were raised in Just to listen to those old walls talk Of you and Mom with heavy New York accents I try my best to not get sad Think of all the good times that made us laugh It's getting late, I should be getting home It's been nice sitting here Talking to your tombstone Talking to your tombstone Talking to your tombstone, woah Talking to your tombstone Aus Songtexte Mania