Picture Window

My baby loves a port town
And a shuffle
Only cries on Ferris wheels
This baby’s on the verge of
If she lost him, would most certainly be committed

Are you not afraid of every waking minute
That your life could pass you by?

But all of my ghosts are real
All of my ghosts are real
All of my ghosts are my home

Heart breaking like a punch card
Keeps his mouth shut
Keeps his mind fixed and well hidden
You dream enough for two, dear
Picture window
Looking out at somewhere else

Do you not conceive of my death at every minute
While your life just passes you by?

But all of my ghosts are real
All of my ghosts are real
All of my ghosts are my home
All of my ghosts are real
All of my ghosts are real
All of my ghosts are my home