ghosts

Pull up a seat and she'll tell you a tale
Of how she can smell ghosts on the perfume that she has inhaled
Sat in the dark reading books with
The underside of her face lit up by candles
She took all the time in the world to decide
Is it wrong to want more from this life if we don't really die

She sees that it's raining again as the drops hit the glass
I know what's going on in her head
In her heart she feels safe in the storm
As the thunder it cracks realization that we're only small
Feet made of concrete we wade through the night
As we wait for the beautiful day that we
Die



Credits
Writer(s): Mark Geary
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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