The Ghost of a Thousand Little Lies

You never get your hands covered in dirt
You never get your heart covered in hurt
Lean your cheep upon your hands — I’ll be your glove
I try to dress you up with my love
You walk right through my walls
You walk right through my walls
The ghost of a thousand little lies
Is haunting my lips and my finger-tips, and my eyes
The ghost of a thousand little lies
Is haunting my lips and my finger-tips, and my eyes
Take me to England cause I’m going slightly mad
(nobody will notice I’m mad in England)
You never get your hands covered in love
Lean your cheek upon your hand — I’ll be your glove.