Texty: Odds. Fingerprints.

Like ghost games
I conjure up pictures of events in my mind
The swearing and the cannons of laughter
Buzz of static counting out time

What I wish would have happened
I now paint and dress it up well
And send it like truth to the tape
Letting history swell

Fingerprints are all but gone
So I can make up the story as it goes along

There might be the good old days
If all the right things get forgotten
A smile can still be photogenic
If you can't see the molars are rotten

I hope you've had revelations
Since I left you behind
I'll at least pretend that you're happy
To stop guilt from making me come untied since

Fingerprints are all but gone
So I can make up the story as it goes along

Fingerprints are all but gone
So I can make up the story as it goes along, yeah, yeah

Most fingerprints, yeah, they are almost gone
I can make up the story, yeah, as it goes along