Get Rich or Die Tryinā (The Ghost of an Angel)
There are nights I sleep alone
Then there are nights Iāll never know
Watching you drift into a slumber where all the angels go
And Iāll pray for day to break
So I can gather my mistakes
To build up something useful ātil thereās nothing left to take
In this land of liberty
There must be something to believe
Iāll take a ride to the cafe to find out what it means
But I know Iāll see you there
And I know it isnāt fair
To live my days according to these sentimental cares
Iāll be frozen in my seat
Paralyzed and incomplete
A wishing well out in the town square, just outside my reach
But I must throw this out there
Sky blue eyes and sun kissed hair
Will greet you every morning even when they are not there
So Iāll offer you this song
And Iāll sing it all alone
The melody to soft to travel where it might belong
Then Iāll play that secret chord
The one that only you would know
Iāll turn this dirt until it grows that solitary rose
But it wonāt be what it seems
Cuz it can only be in dreams
Iāll work these hands ātil the bone shows upon this broken scene
And Iāll spend my energy
On the true and fateful sleep
Iāll drift into that ancient slumber where all the old ghosts meet
