on cemetery street where the dead folks live
it’s easy to meet ‘em and it’s easy to give
a little bit of your time, ‘cause they don’t ask questions
they give you no lines and they make no suggestions
you can talk about life, talk about death
mention your joy and your rage in one breath
you can put up your feet right there
on Robert Smith’s gravestone, that’s kinda nifty
his wife’s got no death date, she’s a hundred and fifty
or maybe she moved after Bob passed away
found a new place to live, and to love, and to stay
and to talk about life, talk about death
mention her joy and her rage in one breath
or maybe she’s buried in some other town
next to Harry, that new lovin’ husband she’d found
but Bobby don’t mind, now they’re all underground

down on cemetery street I met a real live old man
he’d worked there 30 years and comes back when he can
to admire the trees and the bushes he’d planted
all those finer touches you might take for granted, so we
talked about women, talked about men
talked about Jesus and talked about sin
and I swear that I heard the dead all say amen