Tekst:
Jukebox The Ghost The Stars

head All the laughter is just makin' me sad The stars have turned cherry red I'm strummin' on my gay guitar Smokin' a cheap cigar The ghost of our old

the moon, Yeah, is anybody there, or am I just as scared as you? And now you've given me a mission to do, I've got to rearrange the stars so that they

head All the laughter is just making me sad The stars have turned cherry red I'm strumming on my gay guitar Smoking a cheap cigar The ghost of our old

All the laughter is just making me sad The stars have turned cherry red I'm strumming on my gay guitar Smoking a cheap cigar The ghost of our old love

landscape, of broken rocks Whether heard in herb spots, jukebox or malt shops Uncut live, drop eighty-five, in one shot Spotlight hits the metal mic, majority stare

landscape, of broken rocks Whether heard in herb spots, jukebox or malt shops Uncut live, drop eighty-five, in one shot Spotlight hits the metal mic, majority stare