

Late night, same four walls closing in
Scrolling through faces I pretend to know
Cynical laugh at my own reflection (yeah)
I see the pink filter cracking at the seams
Self-aware enough to name the game
Ghost in the pink,
fading out slow
I know the script but still play the role
Cynical heart with a crooked smile (oh)
Another hour, same tired lines rehearsed
Laughing at how predictable we get
Pink glow hides the empty inside (haha)
Strip it back, just the crackle and me
Admitting I like the mess I've made
Ghost in the pink,
fading out slow
I know the script but still play the role
Cynical heart with a crooked smile (ooh)
Fading... still here though