I’ve a confession
It stings to admit
I can’t foresee a day when we buy speedboats from this
It’s lucky sadness triggers the songs
I guess that’s irony for some
There’s no competition, no squad and no team
So no sports metaphors for losing the dream
I just believe we’ve yet to touch on the best of us
My ghosts got ghosts
So bring on the end times, our last mistakes
We’ll sing of broken hopes until the last string breaks
And the melody before it goes
Will be the best we ever wrote
My ghosts got ghosts
And in the vacuum I learnt to cope
My ghosts got spooked
Took one look at what was left and blew