It sucks to be a ghost, it hurts to disappear Drowning in a sea of newspaper clippings Screaming white noise, white lightning on the page A head carved out of glass And a body of celophane Will be standing on your head Breathing fire into your neck Until your will to live is dead My invisible friend, not alive and not dead Whispers sweet secrets From the books that he's read My invisible friend, inside of my head Tells me all the nasty things that you said No knight in shining armor, not masquerade ball No shooting relief from an elbow scrape fall It sucks to be a ghost, it hurts to disppear