Her name engraved

They fucked up her name at the funeral, dressed in black

Isn't that what she wanted? Disrespected like that?

And they gather 'round the grave, and they're sobbin' on the ground

Wonderin' what the hell that she wrote in the will

And they're pillaging her walls, and they're taking her paintings

She's not even fresh in the ground, and they're waiting to see

What she left us, let's see

If this is how we're remembered while we rot in our graves

And our children will fight for material things

Oh, we cried

Oh, God, we cried

They hardly shed a tear while they rummage through her closets

Packing up all the dresses and heels she wore through the house

And the bed that she passed, it still laid there cold and unmade

While the children of her children scout for items to take

And they're pillaging her walls, and they're taking her paintings

She's not even fresh in the ground, and they're waiting to see

What she left us, let's see

If this is how we're remembered while we rot in our graves

And our children will fight for material things

Oh, we cried

Oh, God, we cried

If this is how we're remembered, they will fuck up our names

And speak ill of the dead and the choices we've made

Oh, we cried

Oh, God, we cried

Pillaging her walls, and they're taking her paintings

She's not even fresh in the ground, and they're waiting—

They're pillaging her walls, and they're taking her paintings

She's not even fresh in the ground, and they're waiting to see

What she left us, let's see

They fucked up her name at the funeral