He sits among the rest, buried in his seat
The clatter of the crowd is drowning out his speech
He turns to look at us, a mirror burned in deep
He wonders who you are, you wonder what he means

We are the matched and numbered ones
We have been placed in all their codes
You may be blessed by your own
You may be blessed by your own ghost

She makes the driver blush with pains of tongues and knees
She opens up the car leaving air to breathe
The moments all messed up with lanes that bleed in sheets
That cover up our tracks and lead us to her keep

We are the matched and numbered ones
Who live in this constant disrepair
You may be blessed by your own
You may be blessed by your own ghost

We are the matched and numbered ones
Who live in this constant disrepair
You may be blessed by your own
You may be blessed by your own ghost

Here I'm stressing over fallen angels with cause to cover
Here I'm stressing over numbers we're in a constant disrepair
Here I'm stressing over fallen angels with cause to cover
We are the matched and numbered ones
Who live in this constant disrepair
You may be blessed by your own
You may be blessed by your own ghost