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Riding out through Somerset, fair-playin' days are over with
I'm close to your home base, be nice to see your face
But your voicemail lies as I drop another dime
There's no call back, just hangin' air time
I could fly by or walk the line, you know where I am
I'm patiently waiting, watchin' the A's game besides myself
Little green men, margarita top shelf
I stare down at the plate, chance to still hold space
The bartender asked if I want another round
I laughed till I cried, what's so funny about
If she ain't called by one, then why would she by two
Old school FaceTimes are dead and gone
It's just this fool on the stool wrote the new ghost song
Crashing into bricks, calling up the ghost, going out of my mind
Praying that you could bring us back in time
Back in my day it was dialing with dimes
Making the turn, holding the line
Taking a base or stealing right home
I need a sign, my my motor's on roam
But you can't reach base on a three strikes law
We're bottoming out, where's the call
There's a batter up with deep blue eyes
I heard someone say, don't drink and drive
But, I don't remember calling up the ghost
Or crashing into bricks, there's an echo in my mind
Back in my day it was dialing with dimes
Making the turn, holding the line
Taking a base or stealing right home
I need a sign, my my motor's on roam
So here I am, patiently waiting
Calling up the ghost, her answer echoes in my head
And here I am, patiently waiting
Calling up the ghost
Some people don't know that they're dead
They're answering echoes in their heads
Reaching out for a love long gone
I guess I'm the ghost you've been walking on
There's a voice inside your head
Answers to the echoes of the dead
Saying don't drink and drive
If you want to survive
Don't drink and drive
You'll remember that
And if you don't, the third strike hits
The moment flips, you crash into bricks
Now when the bartender asks if I want another round
I laugh till I cry, what's so funny about
Well if she ain't called by one
Why would she by two
Want to survive, I want us to survive
You see the old school FaceTimes, they're dead and gone
It's just this fool on a stool wrote the new ghost song
Some people don't even know that they're dead
They answer to echoes that are in their heads
Reaching out for a love long gone
I guess I'm the ghost you've been walking on