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