The ghosts of your past
fallen beside you
as you walk down the strand
and into the square
somebody calls you
you ignore the question
it's the girl in the red dress
you murdered in spring
turning the page
for the ghost of tomorrow
the friendless and weak
leave their blood on your hands
burning with rage
swimming in sorrow
you won't be alone
for your ghosts will be there
look down from great height
the figure below you
then into the distance of a world unaware
touching the light
with the flesh and the bonemeal
folding the skin
combing their hair
turning the page
for the ghost of tomorrow
the friendless and weak
leave their blood on your hands
burning with rage
swimming in sorrow
you won't be alone
for your ghosts will be there
you won't leave alone
for your ghosts will be there