I've got more ghosts than Omaha Beach
Dripping down my chin like a Georgia peach
I've got more ghosts than Omaha Beach
And they'll rattle these chains a thousand years each
So Ooh Ooh
Rest your eyes, my child
Ooh Ooh
Rest your eyes, my child
I'll whisper the words that make you love me
I'll carve my soap into a skeleton key
I'll whisper the words that make you love me
'Til my voice turns sour like vitamin C
So Ooh ooh
Rest your eyes, my child
Ooh Ooh
Rest your eyes, my child
I'll be the soundtrack to your silent movie
A melancholy throwback to safer times
And every hole in the piano roll
Is a window to asylum
Every object has its rightful place
Like horn-rimmed glasses on a melting face
Every object has its rightful place
And sleep is the smoke that burns in space
So Ooh ooh
Rest your eyes, my child
Ooh Ooh
Rest your eyes, my child
I'll be the soundtrack to your silent movie
A melancholy throwback to safer times
And every hole in the piano roll
Is a window to asylum
I've got more ghosts than Omaha Beach
Dripping down my chin like a Georgia peach
I've got more ghosts than Omaha Beach
And they'll rattle these chains a thousand years each
So Ooh Ooh
Rest your eyes, my child
Ooh Ooh
Rest your eyes, my child
Ooh Ooh
Rest your eyes, my child
Ooh Ooh
Rest your eyes, my child
Copyright 2002 Zach London