Who?

Cotton, blood and nerves Summed up, that's about the extent No eternal flames flicker six feet above clouds still shiftless those beams that carry angles didn’t even shine down No purpose or place just a common face See there I go trying to impress with clever subtlety a choice of uncanny words you may bring up on cold nights alone I’ll be the ghost in the game spelling out obscenities on a ouji board The poltergeist has spoken it excreted nonsense with a pen filled to the top with invisible ink cheap bastard can’t even afford to write in blood Zero accolades at this juncture No love for the dead guy anymore just rubber bracelets, salt and water No love for the dead guy at all a makeshift cross placed lopsided against a median No love for the dead guy he made damn sure that it turned out this way Remember to forget me it’s the only certainty of my memory at all it’s all I have when the dirt gets shoveled over this dead guy the only way to comfort my fall