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Son Father Holy Ghost

Son, Father, Holy Ghost
The thing I miss the most
Is someone to look at me, not through me
Like unwanted host
Lifting a formal toast to
Someone lucky not to be here

Birth, school, work, death, hide your foul breath
Get laid off twice a year
Whatever was my crime, I have done my time
Now I'm free to disappear
Like a ghost

Take an extra shift, stairs instead of lift
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First stroke at thirty-eight
Wear that fair-trade silk, decaf with non-fat milk
Maintain your ideal weight
Birth, school, work, death, hide your foul breath
Get laid twice a year
Whatever was my crime, I have done my time
Now I'm free to disappear
Like a ghost

Son, Father, Holy Ghost
The thing I miss the most
Is someone to talk to me, not about me