I trace your footprints in the snow
 from my house to your door
 when it gets dark
 The train stops running in our ghosts
 dangers lie in all the snow
 I go on foot
 The railway  through the time
 as the windows of your friends
 when I went to the sea
 I pass the stations and the bars
 I pass the ruins of the house
 where people lived
 the ghost of your mother came to me
 in a dream
 and said you are not far
 I made my plans from a window of a dream
 headed for that ghost
 There are no photographs to prove
 you existed in it all
 that you ever were
 Letters that I meant to write
 about movies and the times
 they are left on down
 These days most things are still the same
 I am embarrassed by afraid
 of you are on a stiff
 I still went to bay at night;
 count the birds on the whites
 to fall asleep
 the ghost of your mother came to me
 in a dream
 and said you are not far
 I've made my plans from a window of a dream
 headed for that ghost
 Streets are quiet now
 It's late
 There is no one around
 I cross where I liked
 I don't remember anything
 about what I did last night
 or where I was
 The window whistles in the trees
 starts singing to the sea
 But there are no words
 I trace your footprints in the snow
 from my house to your door
 when it gets dark
 The ghost of your mother
 whispered in my ear
 "you were not enough"
 So I made my plans from a window of a dream
 headed for that ghost