St. Joe, trade-in   I don't want this life   There's too much gold, and   not enough bad guys   So won't you talk to St. Pete   and see what he can do for me   Because, of course, a ghost   could not affect this world      Gimme pale skin, pale eyes   Soft glow, milky white   See through me in the light   Because, of course, a ghost    could not affect this world      I see off my wife at   elderidge and sun   I wait by the corner, the   bus always comes   Always on time   Always the same one   I drift through the doors,   I float above the seats   and hey there's my boy   crossing the street   He's talking with friends   He's looking away   This is not the end   There are never enough days   I scream and I shake and I   sound like the wind   and I miss the pain of our   blood and our skin   Rubies and pearls, our blood   and our skin   Our blood and our skin are   worth everything.      Hey St Joe, I was wrong   About the sea and the sun and my boy   Let me bleed, let me long   The taste of skin is joy      Because, of course, a ghost   could not affect this world.