Sitting there with my hands in the dirt
All the creatures under the earth
Wind comes from a foreign land
Washed up on foreign sand
Tall postcard from another day
Another column with nothing to say
And all the toys sit looking sad
While the boys run around the flag Giving up the ghosts,
giving up the ghosts
When you come to after the crash Who take you in along with the trash
Sending postcards to another day Those postcards got nothing to say
Giving up the ghosts,
giving up the ghosts
Late at night when I'm suffering from final speech
I'm full of these foolish rags of mine
I shuffle out into the daylight
When you come to when your hands are
tied You're going to say you never tried
Those forms got nothing to say
But you filled them out anyway
Giving up the ghosts,
giving up the ghosts
Giving up the ghosts,
giving up the ghosts