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The walls of our house are thinner than paper, |
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The roof is a vapor that hangs in the air. |
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And our wedding bed is made from the same stuff |
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Our bodies are made of. |
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If no heavy breath blew up these lungs while dirt and wet spit |
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hung, a ghost in the air. |
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Well we're still here. |
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While kids and their friends make war by the fire, |
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Their old men retire to drink and do drugs. |
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We long for the truth, we argue about it. |
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But most of us doubt it can ever be found. |
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Is a ship without a captain just as doomed as a ship without a crew? |
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Cause of all my friends who try to tell the truth, there are still a faithful few |
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Who insist they won't know what to do... |
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If no heavy breath blew up these lungs while dirt and wet spit |
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hung, a ghost in the air. Well we're still here. |
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Well we're still here. |
