[Ghost On The Highway]

It seems we've fallen out of favor
The era ended on us,
Now the money's just paper,
The houses all haunted,
We had a hell of a run before it caught up
For all the corners cut we got an avalanche of sawdust
Life of the party we're the death of the novel
The glass is half empty so pass the next bottle
It's the flight of the salesman, death of the bumblebee
Nothin' left for the attorneys and the tumbleweeds
They say that God's on the right, so goes the rhetoric
But I think that cross is a kite that left a skeleton
And I think that Russell was right but that's irrelevant friend
For all I know there'll be nothin' left to defend tomorrow
Sugar in the gas tank, nothin' in the cash box,
Thought that we were so sick, looking like it's smallpox,
The bullets are still on the shelves,
But when the armory empties we're melting down the bells.