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Recovering the Opposable Thumb

de The Lawrence Arms

I drove the highways of a skeleton coast
Salt and sea, tapped mysteries into the keys
I wrote an opus of distorted truths
A symphony to crashing waves of victory

I am a ghostwriter
Pretend I am forever young
I bleed every ribbon dry
Waiting for my day to come

Tamerlane, my poor soul in a last refrain
An endless storm rattles on my windowpane
Creaking floors, lost voices of a thousand wars
The fire roars

I am a ghostwriter
Pretend I am forever young
I bleed every ribbon dry
Waiting for my day to come

How long can we sing the same old tired songs?
How long can we tread water?
The shore is only getting smaller

I am a ghostwriter
Pretend I am forever young
I bleed every ribbon dry
Waiting for my day to come
Waiting for my day to come
To come

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