I take too long to call you back.
I’m sorting through money. 
American cash 
makes you feel rich
when you’re not.

There’s ice hanging off all the trees
and off the radiator. 
I’d give up on heat 
before I’d give up
on a dream.

But when I 
peer in through your window,
through cheap venetian blinds 
and see you pacing out lines,
I wish I was ghost.
But I’m not… 
not yet.

We’ve got time,
new ideas and designs.
And it’s alright,
‘cause we can eat them.

Your friends drag us to Scaramouche.
We skip out on the bill, 
’cause every true 
silver lining 
has a cloud.

And so we’re 
killing time in the living room,
estranging our escapes 
and running down the house now.
Wish I was a ghost, 
but I’m not.

We’ve got time,
new ideas and designs.
And it’s alright,
‘cause we can eat them.

Because I’m tired of letting you down.
 Don’t get comfortable.

I take too long to call you back.
I’m sorting through money. 
American cash 
makes you feel rich
when you’re not.

We’ve got time,
new ideas and designs.
And it’s alright,
‘cause we can eat them.