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Here comes that old wall
Like a smack in the back of a Cadillac
Only Empty Tales
Of material worlds from this Underwood
Understand that I don't have a choice, choice
I can only call upon that voice, voice
Of my dearest friend from way back when
That spirit who can lend a hand from all the way across the great divide
Oh ghost writer
I'm nothing without you dear
Oh ghost writer
I'm nothing without you here
Out blow the candles and lights
I roll back my eyes its dead silent
Whispers softly come
At first just a few, then ten tons
Stories of dimensions near and far, so far
Bugs with names, three legs and flying cars, yes cars

Catapulting through the universe
That spirit who can lend a verse from all the way across the great divide
Oh ghost writer
I'm nothing without you dear
Oh ghost writer
I'm nothing without you here
Pillars of poems piled
Miles to the ceiling
Scratches, scribbles, coffee stains
Understand that I don't have a choice, choice
I can only call upon that voice, voice
Of my dearest friend from way back when
That spirit who can lend a hand from all the way across the great divide
Oh ghost writer
I'm nothing without you dear
Oh ghost writer
I'm nothing without you here

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