Red Slippers, Red Wheels Lyrics - Singles - Ghost

In a traffic jam with sweaty hands 

The kids we hype up just to drop 

These few pretty faces in ugly places 

The small towns where we would never stop 

Shitty scenes and tired schemes 

All this art it makes me sick 

And I always wrote better than I spoke 

You couldn't even read my lips 

Home is where the heart is 

Mine is scattered by miles and time 

On this slow suicide with a pack of smokes and cheap bottle of wine 

Passing trends and passing friends 

Magnets floating in a metal sea 

In a world of ghosts all overdosed 

Placebo pills at the pharmacy 

Arguments and your two sense 

All this talk it makes me sick 

And I always wrote better than I spoke 

You couldn't even read my lips 

In this empty room 

I will live with my mistakes 

Hold this straw untill it's gold 

It will or I will break 

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