The heat of the sun stayed on through the night Made specters of strangers playing games with my sight I passed through the station, a face in the crowd The whistle was blowing, the barrier came down
There was my baby, in another’s embrace I called out her name in shame and disgrace Yes, I have ghosts, not all of them dead Making dust of my dreams, spinning round and around Around in my head
Train on the tracks, teeth of the zip The slider moves down, we were joined at the hip Stealing the groove, the widening gap Unfastening rails from a past with no map
Yes, I have ghosts, a fleeting sight It’s always the living that are haunting my nights
Where is the sweet soul that you used to be Gone like a thistle that’s blown on the breeze I guess when it’s over, this haunting will end The waiting, the baiting, my killer, my friend
Yes, I have ghosts, not all of them dead And they dance by the moon, millstones white as the sheet On my bed