Ghost Machine - Jon Foreman

All hail the siren of our time

I’m possessed when she passes by

She drains the best years of my life

She makes promises she could never keep

Ain’t it a ghost machine

Making a ghost outta me

After all her lies and surprises still believes

I swear she’s gonna make a dead man outta me

By a ghost machine

Father forgive me cause I know

Exactly how I spread my soul

My darling she’s in the pocket of my coat

I make promises I could never keep

Ain’t it a ghost machine

Ain’t she a ghost machine

I’m still haunted by the faces on a screen

I swear she’s gonna make a dead man outta me

Do you know yourself?

I heard a voice call out

We define ourselves

By the things we can’t live without

I didn’t know that I could quit at anytime

But my ghost is a drug, my ghost is a drug

She’s in my blood and I can’t give her up

The clock the altar of our time

We thought the temple of our mind

And I’ve been sprinkling the blood of most my life

On the altars of my ghost machine

Ain’t she my enemy

My ancient remedy

The gods of empty promises and I believe

She haunts me with her laughter in my dreams

I swear she’s gonna make a dead man out of me

A ghost machine