(Detectives! Detectives!) Only ghosts and detectives remain, in this town named after the sound of rain. I'm here, I'm making a stand against invisible, impossible plans. The men who sold America don't care what happens to you and your mom. The men who sold America don't care what happens when the money's gone. But I do, and my love for you makes sparks in the haunted vaccuum of freedom. (Detectives! Detectives!) For there are those who will sell you out, take you apart and send you away, and some will say most anything, but some mean what they say.
Lyrics submitted by PLANES