Here comes that old wall Like a smack in the back of a Cadillac Only empty tales Of material worlds from this underwood Understand that I don't have a choice, choice I can only call upon that voice, voice Of my dearest friend from way back when That spirit who can lend a hand From all the way across the great divide Oh – ghost writer I'm nothing without you dear Oh – ghost writer I'm nothing without you here Out blow the candles and lights I roll back my eyes its dead silent Whispers softly come At first just a few, then ten tons Stories of dimensions near and far, so far Bugs with names, three legs and flying cars, yes cars Catapulting through the universe That spirit who can lend a verse From all the way across the great divide Oh – ghost writer I'm nothing without you dear Oh – ghost writer I'm nothing without you here Pillars of poems piled Miles to the ceiling Scratches, scribbles, coffee stains Understand that I don't have a choice, choice I can only call upon that voice, voice Of my dearest friend from way back when That spirit who can lend a hand From all the way across the great divide Oh – ghost writer I'm nothing without you dear Oh – ghost writer I'm nothing without you here