This is a manifest of fixtures.
Bring to the back of your rearview mirror,
it wouldn't come out any clearer.
A dead moth with red eyes in the picture.
Point Pleasant.
Call everyone you know.
Arrange for containment.
Just an accessory to the prophecy.
Hanging on to the collapse,
one last witness to the silver bridge.
Skeptical sharks drown in fever binge.
The sun comes up the river washed out.
Shake the rubble off your back.
Belts and bars surround your face.
The observation goes,
but you can't make a sound.
Call yourself a Ghost Town.
We were given a ghost town to live in,
in desperate pursuit of truth to bring.
Sit yourself up in the tall grass
mixed up between all the broken glass.
It's anonymous on your mind.
Says it's watching you.
Shooting footage with crumpled receipts.
Targets the ammunition fuel
So check your rearview,
red eyes filling up your lenses,
shaped like a man.
Heart attack to claim on detainment.
We were given a ghost town to live in,
in desperate pursuit of truth to bring.
Sit yourself up in the tall grass
mixed up between all the broken glass.