Ghosts at the Yard Sale

Take a look
See what you like
Don't matter where
It comes from right
See these knives
What would you pay
Of course they've
Only been on display
Southern comfort, easy life
It all comes at a hefty price
Hustles built on stolen lives
I'll rob the grave to get what's mine

Oh, oh
Fire sale, it all goes now
But no returns after sundown
Oh, oh
Fire sale, it all goes now
But no returns after sundown

Don't you dare touch me
Leave me alone
If you know what's good for you
You won't take me home
Can't you feel that
A curse has been thrown
I cannot be cleansed
I will not be owned
Stolen heirlooms
Grave-robbed bones
Murder weapons
Put on show
From most macabre
To most benign
All trinkets here
Deceive by design
If chairs could talk
If chests could cry
The stories they'd tell
Would terrify
Marooned in death
And trapped by spite
Our hapless souls
Linger afterlife

Afterlife
Trapped in spite
Afterlife
Trapped in spite



Credits
Writer(s): Aleksis Shaw
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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