Ghosts

I saw her reflection in a window

When I turned, she was gone

The rooftops and the deadbrick stretch for miles and miles

Someday all of this will come down

 

And the people walking by

Look just like ghosts

 

I passed a row of empty houses

And a line of trees made of bone

She held me for a moment in her watery eyes

But the demon in me never sleeps

 

My dreams are filled with open fields and rivers

And she stands within a veil of autumn mist

These office blocks and shops don’t mean a thing to me

One day all of this will be gone

 

And the people walking by

Look just like ghosts

And the people walking by

They look like ghosts

They look like ghosts

 

Words by Mark from “Cactus Farming At The Ends Of The Earth” first published by Miracle Grow 2001.