World Series of Ghosts - Hypothetical Exit

So long to that hypothetical summer,
The one that never came.
No roller coaster tag team champs,
Just extra guns and bombs for my tired brain.
Remember how we screamed round the bend,
We just couldn't stop laughing.
The stars could reach and touch our hands,
And all the trees were clapping.

Written by:
William Swartwood IV

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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