A Ghost

	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.