Lyrics
Last night I grew up from a dream,
and I knew just what I had to do.
So this is the last one I’ll ever write for you.
It bites, all the teeth marks, they sting.
The bruises are still green and blue.
The scabs are still mossy, but they will heal too.
Raise your glass to the ghost of a ghost.
I’m saying goodnight, love, to what I love the most.
And I’d love to be once again,
the luckiest boy of all men.
But I’ll take my losses, and count them as a win.
If I was a god being fed
all the grapes I could cram in my head.
I know just one mortal I’d take to my bed.
But I’m not a god and I’ll never be.
I’ll need glasses to see past this century.
And hopefully, I’ll know you even then.
Raise your glass to the ghost of a ghost.
I’m standing up straight, love, and this is my last toast.
Now I’m cracking up at the thought of it,
like I haven’t laughed in a while.
But I’ll glue myself back together
to look back and smile.
The worst thing that I’ll ever have to do,
is tell a lie dressed like the truth.
Cause, lies, they look nice
in their best Sunday suit.
Raise your glass to the ghost of a ghost.
I’m telling the truth, love, I’m ready to let go.
If that’s not the truth, then it’s not mine to know.
And, though the climb on can be steep.
Alone for a while I will sleep…
Just a boy writing poems where the willow tree weeps.