Cold coffee and this muffled scream ..getting quieter...and i don't even feel it anymorei feel strange sitting stilleverything i know tells me to got..
a summer breeze falsely flies bycause winter is all but hereand these ghost wont leave me alonei see visions street light and alleyways and an ocean s..
i stepped into a smelli remember it when i was a small blossomthis is what dad smelled likedusty and warehouses filled with this and that but mostly ..
the ghost maker lies in you saddest happy thought and in the back beat of all the cogs falling apart there is a song like a tortured angels plaintive..
there is a headi use to petlast i heard it was in the groundthese hands have held on but the dust that pools in my hands isn't what i originally grab..