When Exiting Your Vehicle - The Bled

You and I are not survivors, decorated victims of a losing war

All dressed up in our defensive wounds

We are the ghosts

Haunted by the living ones

Every day apparitions

Haunted by the sound of our own voices

We are the ghosts

Faithlessly wandering around

And I’ll wander around.

Yeah, I’ll wander around

Passing through, I’m just passing through

Stranded here forever

Caught in the middle of our own exorcism

The human body is a grave

This world is purgatory

We are prisoners of our selves

Stranded here forever

Haunted by the living ones