Long Way Back

Oh-oh, yeah

Under the flour dust and fluorescent glare I'm scrubbing down the trays

but I'm not really there

(no I'm

not there)

Just a ghost in the gig,

riding out the shift (waiting on a lift)

Took the long way round,

watched the city pass Now behind this counter,

wiping down the glass I stare at the front door like it

owes me cash Green concert wristband under a paper splash

And the headlights sweep across the empty street

I can feel the bassline vibrating in my feet

Under the flour dust and fluorescent glare

I'm scrubbing down the trays but I'm not really there

(no I'm not there)

Just a ghost in the gig,

riding out the shift

(waiting on a lift)

Neon signs are turning off,

the register is locked But that arena stage

in my mind is never blocked

(never blocked)

Watching the door...

Ghost in the gig...