Ghost of a poet laureate
Don't you ever forget that you owe me
That you owe me
Oh, how my mother cried
Oh, how my mother cried
When you told me
When you told me
Through the muck and the mire
I'd go through the muck and the mire
For you to hold me
For you to hold me
You will have to hold my hand
You will have to hold my hand
When you show me
When you show me
The world seems strange to me
Ghost of an old religion
Didn't you even listen to the stories?
To the stories
Oh, the waterless well
Oh, how time will tell
So grim and gory
So grim and gory
We should've seen it coming
Blindsided at the dawning of the forties
Stuck in the forties
Ghost of a poet laureate
Don't you even regret it
Don't ignore me
Don't ignore me
The world seems strange to me
The world seems strange to me
The world seems strange to me
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Ghost of a poet laureate
Don't you ever forget that you owe me
That you owe me
Oh, how my mother cried
Oh, how my mother cried
When you told me
When you told me
Through the muck and the mire
I'd go through the muck and the mire
For you to hold me
For you to hold me
You will have to hold my hand
You will have to hold my hand
When you show me
When you show me
The world seems strange to me
Ghost of an old religion
Didn't you even listen to the stories?
To the stories
Oh, the waterless well
Oh, how time will tell
So grim and gory
So grim and gory
We should've seen it coming
Blindsided at the dawning of the forties
Stuck in the forties
Ghost of a poet laureate
Don't you even regret it
Don't ignore me
Don't ignore me
The world seems strange to me
The world seems strange to me
The world seems strange to me
Don't you ever forget that you owe me
That you owe me
Oh, how my mother cried
Oh, how my mother cried
When you told me
When you told me
Through the muck and the mire
I'd go through the muck and the mire
For you to hold me
For you to hold me
You will have to hold my hand
You will have to hold my hand
When you show me
When you show me
The world seems strange to me
Ghost of an old religion
Didn't you even listen to the stories?
To the stories
Oh, the waterless well
Oh, how time will tell
So grim and gory
So grim and gory
We should've seen it coming
Blindsided at the dawning of the forties
Stuck in the forties
Ghost of a poet laureate
Don't you even regret it
Don't ignore me
Don't ignore me
The world seems strange to me
The world seems strange to me
The world seems strange to me
Writer: Jacob Boston
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid