Ghostwriter کے بول

I drove the highways of a skeleton coast Salt and sea, tapped mysteries into the keys I wrote an opus of distorted truths A symphony to crashing waves of victory I am a ghostwriter Pretend I am forever young I bleed every ribbon dry Waiting for my day to come Tamerlane, my poor soul in a last refrain An endless storm rattles on my windowpane Creaking floors, lost voices of a thousand wars The fire roars I am a ghostwriter Pretend I am forever young I bleed every ribbon dry Waiting for my day to come How long can we sing the same old tired songs? How long can we tread water? The shore is only getting smaller I am a ghostwriter Pretend I am forever young I bleed every ribbon dry Waiting for my day to come Waiting for my day to come To come