When Exiting Your Vehicle

You and I are not survivors, decorated victims of a losing war
All dressed up in our defensive wounds
We are the ghosts
Haunted by the living ones
Every day apparitions
Haunted by the sound of our own voices
We are the ghosts
Faithlessly wandering around

And I'll wander around. Yeah, I'll wander around
Passing through, I'm just passing through
Stranded here forever
Caught in the middle of our own exorcism

The human body is a grave
This world is purgatory
We are prisoners of our selves
Stranded here forever
Haunted by the living ones