St. Joe, trade-in

I don't want this life

There's too much gold, and

not enough bad guys

So won't you talk to St. Pete

and see what he can do for me

Because, of course, a ghost

could not affect this world



Gimme pale skin, pale eyes

Soft glow, milky white

See through me in the light

Because, of course, a ghost 

could not affect this world



I see off my wife at

elderidge and sun

I wait by the corner, the

bus always comes

Always on time

Always the same one

I drift through the doors,

I float above the seats

and hey there's my boy

crossing the street

He's talking with friends

He's looking away

This is not the end

There are never enough days

I scream and I shake and I

sound like the wind

and I miss the pain of our

blood and our skin

Rubies and pearls, our blood

and our skin

Our blood and our skin are

worth everything.



Hey St Joe, I was wrong

About the sea and the sun and my boy

Let me bleed, let me long

The taste of skin is joy



Because, of course, a ghost

could not affect this world.