she hangs her head like saturday
they rise and fall and fade away
and you're left selling secrets
chasing ghosts down empty hallways
there're pretty girls in skirts on nine and five
if the dead could speak now
we'd be the ghosts in the machine
we become everything we need
if the dead could speak now...
i'm on floor four and fading
breathing like a porcelain doll
killing off the past and now
and all your neon nights, electric lives
the pixels scream as he descends
if the dead could speak now
we'd be the ghosts in the machine
we become everything we need
if the dead could speak now...