You thought you'd bend the truth and still tell itOmen came like a cystThey like you better as a widowYou said boomers with hepatitis might be spitting in your drinkAnd you'd Uber'd in an SUVThe clock is ticking and I'm on my feetI've got a feeling that I'm still asleepI don't know if I'm on track or so far awayLook around to the faces that used to pull me throughAnd they can't help me nowThe locks are missing on St. Augustine StAnd there's a ouija board but you can't drinkClear my throat and ask the ghost 'is this for real?'I look around to the faces and they're all different nowThey can't help me now