- cifra
Nothing makes me want to disappear
As when someone opens their mouth
It's just my luck
I get hit by a car
While carrying a cake
Dripping cherries
Onto pavement
Bride and groom on my face
I'm not there like a ghost ship in a storm
It only figures
That I'd ride my bike
Into wet cement
And as I'm sinkin'
The last thing that I think
Is did I pay my rent
I ride through like a ghost ship in a storm
