Ghost Stories - Ccampground Mix

To hell with your standards and norms
It hails when it storms and there ain't a thing else warm
Frost forms when the sunset hits like a brick
Icicle etiquette, frozen and delicate

Imagine if fire had required a fresh start in the rain
I know these sentiments by first names
Dirt stains but the flames burn clean
Find whatever lights first and then drown it in gasolene

But I can see through the smoke just fine
Within a city of ember, burning in between the lines
You can crumble under your encumbrance or put it down
With a rifle barreled spark and bury it beneath the ground

Round up the tinder and your precious conceptions
We all singe down here and keep scars for collections
My pet campfire may be known to attack
But these boots do walk and I do breathe back

To hell with your standards and norms
It hails when it storms and there ain't a thing else warm

Sleeping pills
Midnight stills
Naked tents
Morning chills

It's not that I don't deserve this
Decisions and such were made
And anyway I told the truth
And fear does not keep me awake
That's not to say I sleep so much
As I have cherished my mistakes
And rub the dust into my shoulders
In ornamental display

Sleeping pills
Midnight stills
Naked tents
Morning chills

It's not that I'm not a fan
The star lit sky's adorable
But the not so great outdoors differs
When every door's unaffordable
And the path was likely avoidable
But it's trickier to undo
And the stories told bring no comfort
When the ghost in them is you