Ghost Stories - The Lawrence Arms

Raindrops fell without rage, eyes half closed

Skin like dark gray metal, inanimate and cold

Another flame to my face

The smell of sulfur lingering away

You’re here for the perforation of the heart

Precise incisions, anesthetic dreams

It’s broken like a ticking watch, needs repair

Shattered glass, exposed face, waiting to be wound

Wounded like a friend of mine who eased his pain by killing time

Not letting it kill him

When you wake up, you won’t remember anything

But that night the ghosts wailed in the wind storm

Cries sharp like a crescent moon

A sickle grazed against the skin

My breath fogged up the window

So I let the night breathe in

I let the ghosts into my room

And listened to their screams

Incessant whisperings

Singing, singing

Like music to my ears, like music to my ears

Like music to my ears

A flash of life like lightning

Electric blinding blue

Reminding me of you