The ghost is sitting blistering in baggage claim, like a sinner at the pearly gates
Praying for you to shout my name
Your thrift store suitcases to the gaudy faces to becoming the queen
The fax machine transmitting all the shirts and things
Hoping maybe the lady I'm saving from a florescent haties,
Escapes throw the ticket away inside decays
Maybe she's gone missing by mix up or hiccup that switches the terminal change lane Blame the plane
Either way I ain't gonna leave today without seen her face this place is poison
I can get a taste trade my hope for an antidote to maybe make my escape,
But I go back into the flames to make sure she is okay
They say its just a phase, they tell me sit and wait, they say its on its way,
They say that every case becomes a frame
Cultivate a common name, pack my things to get on the plane and fly
Leave her standing at the baggage claim...
:Hook:
I ain't gone leave for 70 years, I ain't gonna leave for 70 years (X2)