| They sink down deeper
|
| While still dodging the creeper
|
| Of the blue collar classic motif
|
| Let it fall into the sea
|
| With your perfect posture
|
| Still a crooked spine
|
| While the flume you protect starts to leak
|
| Can’t buy pride with good intentions
|
| Whoah, whoah
|
| I fee l like I’m a saint
|
| Whoa whoa
|
| But I’m treated like a ghost
|
| You starve for attention
|
| But you’ve been biting the bullet for years
|
| You betrayed my trust
|
| To learn my secrets
|
| And manifest my fears
|
| The cause and effect
|
| For the simple minded
|
| It’s pulled you in
|
| The ugliness whose pocket book you’ve loaded
|
| Can’t buy luck with no religion
|
| Drifting through life without a trace
|
| Heaven won’t take me
|
| But Hell can’t wait
|
| Whoah, whoah
|
| But I’m treated like a ghost
|
| You can’t break this spell
|
| You can save me
|
| You can’t right my wrongs
|
| You can’t part the sea
|
| Heaven wasn’t built to hold me
|
| Whoah, whoah
|
| I feel like I’m a saint
|
| Whoah, whoah
|
| But I’m living with a curse
|
| Whoah, whoah
|
| I feel like I’m a saint
|
| Whoah, whoah
|
| But I’m treated like a ghost
|
| Drifting through life without a trace
|
| Heaven won’t take me
|
| But Hell can’t wait
|
| Whoah, whoah
|
| But I’m treated like a ghost |