Eleven fifty-nine… One more chair. One more glass. Funny how the dead Keep coming back. A little black ledger, a pocket watch, A fortune sleeping where the floorboards rot. A dead man's name and a diamond smile, I've been living like a king for quite a while. Silk on my shoulders, gold in my hand, A town car waiting at my command. Champagne bubbles, the band plays low, There's a little thing about me you should know. You buried the body. You buried the name. But money remembers, And money keeps change.… So save me a seat at your table tonight, Pour me a whiskey and dim down the lights. You look like you've seen a ghost walk in— Sweetheart, don't tell me where the fear begins. I've got your secrets tucked under my sleeve, And a thousand good reasons for you to believe. The band keeps playing while the cold winds blow— I'm the last one you wanted, The last one to know. The Last Guest… Now, where did everybody go? The judge wears a smile like a polished blade, The mayor drinks deep to the deals he's made. The lady in pearls won't look my way, The gentleman beside her has nothing to say. I know who paid and I know who lied, I know whose fortune has blood inside. But I never promised to make things right— I only came dressed for the best seat tonight. You buried the evidence. You silenced the past. But secrets have legs, And the good ones walk fast. So save me a seat at your table tonight, Pour me a whiskey and dim down the lights. You look like you've seen a ghost walk in— Sweetheart, don't tell me where the fear begins. I've got your secrets tucked under my sleeve, And a thousand good reasons for you to believe. The band keeps playing while the cold winds blow— I'm the last one you wanted, The last one to know. The Last Guest… Now, who's ready to go? I didn't kill him. I wasn't there. I found his bones And inherited his chair. His watch. His wealth. His name. His sins. Funny how a dead man Lets a stranger in. You call me a phantom. You call me a curse. You haven't heard the truth— And the truth is worse. Because when the last glass shatters And the last light dies, I'll be somewhere you can't find me Wearing somebody else's life. Eleven fifty-nine… Who's missing now? Raise up your glasses. The evening is mine. Your secrets are vintage. Your money is fine. You thought you'd escaped it. You thought you'd won. But the past has a habit Of coming undone. So toast to the dead And the lies that we keep. Some ghosts walk the ballroom. Some sleep underneath. The band keeps on playing. The night swallows the show. I'm the last one you invited— And the first one to go. No body. No name. No witness. No blame. Just an empty glass And a fortune untold… Eleven fifty-nine. And the Last Guest has left the fold
