Was a ghost, closest to focus?, No he's hopeless, but my eyes require glasses, the fastest call my tactics practice, the phantoms strapping what's about to happen?, collapse assassins with all my passion and cap the fashion, but yet they stashing and steady scratching, I'm wide awake, hard to handle these channelled scandals like Watergate, to them it's hard to hate, and me it's hard to take, shape fate off heart rate and sharp stakes, soon depart states, through a smart scope, and reside in Caribbean, free from sharks that stroke.