I lay around this stillborn Sunday
The nameless, graceless wreck you leave in me
I stood silent at your waking theater
Deluded and grotesque, I hemorrhage history

But I won't be visited again
By the ghosts of things that never came to be
I won't let my heart settle in
To the fallow soil that sprawls out
From the fringes of the swaying Salton Sea

We let their hurried beat busy our bones
But our tempo tempered hearts are always idle
We drink the water from their fountain
This place could never be the things that we both need
No, this place could never be the things that we both need

And I want the things that I can't have
And I need to find a new way out
And I will crawl out from the wreckage of my past
And we'll fall head first and weary of
The place we've hung our hats for all these years
Wait for the night, we'll disappear

But I won't be visited again
By the ghosts of things that never came to be
I won't let my heart settle in
To the fallow soil that sprawls out
From the fringes of the swaying Salton Sea