Ghostwriter – Calexico – letras

Dying of thirstCould i still be alive or worseWhere was i lastParked on the street when a shadow was castTaking me out, when a struggle ensuedWhat was that hole in my shirtAnd the blood that spilled to the floorLike a dead man’sThe focus is blurredAnd the voice off camera is heardAnd the lighting’s to blameTell the assistant director the samePulling away to a final dissolveSoundtrack provides a lush bed of stringsBefore the screen fades to blackAnd the credits rise aboveLike the soul of a dead manWandering onLike a dead manWandering on