A Ghost To Most Songtext
I guess I'll never grow a side burn
It's a shame with all I've got to go between
I hope somebody's cause takes soon
It's getting hard to find a place a root can sink
Mama said a lot of things and be thankful was the one she never minded saying twice
Thanks to her I can think clear enough,
To be thankful that she died before tonight
Saving everybody takes a man on a mission
With a swagger that can set the world at ease
And the other dumping water in the streets
Talking tough is easy when it's other people's evil
And you're judging what they do or don't believe
It seems to me you'd have to have a hole you're own
To point a finger at somebody else's sheet
Baby every bone in my body's gone to jumping
Like they're gonna come through my skin
If they could get along without the rest of me, it wouldn't matter if they did
But skeletons ain't got nowhere to stick they're money
Nobody makes britches that size
And besides you're a ghost to most before they notice,
That you ever had a hair or a hide
I don't know how good it does a man,
To keep on telling him how good it is he's free
Free to wash his ghost down the drain,
And free for them to tell him there's no such a thing
Some believe it's God's own hand on the trigger
It's a shame with all I've got to go between
I hope somebody's cause takes soon
It's getting hard to find a place a root can sink
Mama said a lot of things and be thankful was the one she never minded saying twice
Thanks to her I can think clear enough,
To be thankful that she died before tonight
Saving everybody takes a man on a mission
With a swagger that can set the world at ease
And the other dumping water in the streets
Talking tough is easy when it's other people's evil
And you're judging what they do or don't believe
It seems to me you'd have to have a hole you're own
To point a finger at somebody else's sheet
Baby every bone in my body's gone to jumping
Like they're gonna come through my skin
If they could get along without the rest of me, it wouldn't matter if they did
But skeletons ain't got nowhere to stick they're money
Nobody makes britches that size
And besides you're a ghost to most before they notice,
That you ever had a hair or a hide
I don't know how good it does a man,
To keep on telling him how good it is he's free
Free to wash his ghost down the drain,
And free for them to tell him there's no such a thing
JOHN MICHAEL COOLEY
© THE BICYCLE MUSIC COMPANY
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© THE BICYCLE MUSIC COMPANY
Songtext powered by LyricFind