Six Feet Under: The Grave's A View

Lyrics

Yeah.
Top floor. Follow me up.

It's just past sundown on Memorial Drive.
The city's still breathing, feeling alive.
We skip the ground floor, take the stairs two at a time.
Been coming to this spot since two thousand and seven.
The air gets cooler up here, closer to heaven.
Or maybe something else.
Grab that table by the rail.

We're having fried shrimp with a cemetery view.
A cold beer toast to the silent crew.
Over at Oakland, the angels are stone.
Here at Six Feet Under, we're picking at bones.
Yeah, the grave's a view.
Pass me another one of them oyster shooters.

Look over there, past the magnolias and the oak.
See the Victorian markers, a city of sleeping folk.
They're quiet neighbors, never complain about the sound.
Did you hear that? That's the zoo saying goodnight.
We got lions roaring in the fading light.
And the buzz of this patio, a hundred conversations.
Best rooftop in the nation.

We're having fried shrimp with a cemetery view.
A cold beer toast to the silent crew.
Over at Oakland, the angels are stone.
Here at Six Feet Under, we're picking at bones.
Yeah, the grave's a view.
Pass me another one of them oyster shooters.

A toast to George and Kelly who had the nerve.
To serve up fresh fish on this beautiful curve.
Right across from where Margaret Mitchell lies dreaming.
And Maynard Jackson's legacy is gleaming.
They had their time.
This one's ours.

The lights of the city start to spark.
Leaving the garden cemetery to the dark.
Another round?
Yeah, another round.
What a view.