He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost
She's slippin through his fingers as she's movin' out to the coast
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost
Well if your world was all black and if your world was all white
Well then you wouldn't get much color out of life now right
A nickname Shamrock well my name is not Shamus
Girlies on the tippy cause my homie is famous
My name is not O'Houigheighi nor is it Brian
If I said that I was weak man you know I'd be lyin' well
Suckers try to bite yea they try to pursue it