When the funeral's over and the mourners have gone,
It's the last clean-up job you'll have done.
Think of the love that I have shown you,
This is the window I'm going to climb through.
I'm ending it here on this busy town street,
I'll unload my burdensome self from you, sweet.
You'll not have clear up my mess and my spills,
I'm leaving the world on this high window sill.
For all of the times I've caused you to cry,
You won't have to carry my weight on your mind.
When the funeral's over and the mourners have gone,
It's the last clean-up job you'll have done.