[Verse 1: P. Walsh]

It's ironic how Jake rhymes with snake

Hiss from a pig heard when the squealing’s fake

Raising up the stakes when I’m dealing with the mics

Dispenser of the lies couldn’t always get me high

And you’re far from right, you’re the opposite of Mennonites

A gymnast with the truth, some men in tights

Doing dirt like I’m sitting in a crypt

Skulls and bones around me now I’m sprinting with a splint (yeah)

Back in California, I was quaking with the earth

Wish in ‘95 that my mom was faking birth

Actions so precise, slash me like x-acto knives

Attacking me in fights, extracting all my strife

Affеction in the day, but you wear a mask at night

Inflections in my voicе make it feathery and light

Infection from your spite detected in my lungs (in my lungs)

It’s funny how I worry when I did nothing wrong (wrong)

[Hook 1: P. Walsh]

It’s funny how I worry when I did nothing wrong (x4)

[Verse 2: P. Walsh]

And of course, a year later, the sky’s still pink

And the molecules colluded for a universal link

My attitude is rude, mood is sentenced to the clink

I try to make connections, confidence the missing link

Got a pessimistic mind with an optimistic heart

I’ve been wrestling with memories, the convoluted part

Had a complicated start, happy middle, sad depart (yeah)

As the story goes, the door was closed, I left my mark

But that last glance back, that killed me the most

Held that handle in my grasp, felt the rasp in my throat

Steadfast but alas, battered, shattered, tattered, broke

Stood in silence for a moment, worked the details over slow

The saddest part is that my only choice was go

All my options down to one, caught my caution in the gust

I pass old locations, no passenger, alone

It turns out everybody’s somebody’s ghost

[Hook 2: P. Walsh]

It turns out everybody’s somebody’s ghost (x3)

It turns out... that I'm somebody's ghost whoa