Empty boxes and old curtains worn
forgotten memories and nights left undone
have you gone the way of ghosts in my head
all the way with Fibonnaci to the sailor's bed?
There is no bird on the wire
but there’s a rat in the road.
dead leaves cover the ground
will we ever feel at home.
lights burn the shadows, night turns to day
lights burn the shadows, nothing really stays.
i am the ghost sleeping in the willow.
lights burn the shadows, nothing really stays
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