The Ghost

I called you tonight, your silence was mine
It was just to hear you breathe through the line
It sure doesn't mean we had nothing to say

Silence can be loud, and it can be a friend
When the words were too weak, i would squeeze your hand
It sure doesn't mean we had nothing to say

And a piece of moon hangs in the sky

I let the seconds pass between you and i
Let you fill the space with a distant sigh
It sure doesn't mean we had nothing to say

I listened to the fragile, receding noise
I heard your breath and not your voice
It sure doesn't mean we had nothing to say

Fuck the choreography of love
The head spins and the body hurts again

Fuck the never-ending ballet of
The heart dancing with the brain

It is sifting down from the ceiling
Rising from the cracks in the parquet floor
The ghost of your love behind the door

It is hanging in the air, just floating in the dark
A warm, haunting feeling that i can't ignore
The ghost of your love behind the door

And a piece of moon hangs in the sky

O your unsettled dust in the light
Swaying in broken arabesques
Invading the present from the past

O your disembodied lust so bright
Hovering above, floating with the night
Invading the present from the past

Fuck the choreography of love
The head spins and the body hurts again

Fuck the never-ending ballet of
The heart dancing with the brain