I am what I sing
Genius steal, they borrow
Still it spreads no meaning
Riffing yet lacking that flow

I'€™ll never get old
Sniffing minus ions
My old tactic is called:
The comfort of illusions

They shouldn'€™t try
Nor even dare
'€˜Cause my best friend
Is my own ghost

The guys there with me
Don'€™t even know the Fudge
For the result will be
A wasted day with the drudges

Fuck incognito
Outside and very wise
Dead lodger walking low
I'€™m a jazzman in disguise

They shouldn'€™t push
Nor even hope
'€˜Cause my best friend
Is my own ghost

They shouldn'€™t tell
Nor even ask
Why my best friend
Is my own ghost

Now my best friend
Is my own ghost