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Ghost
by
Ohmme
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You are the product of a happenstance Your father's eyes and your mother's hands You dream about the other side of the road And you hold it close While you hold the wheel close Antiseptic a***ytical mind With your steel-toed boots and your boots in a line Don't want to hit the road and go coast to coast It's what you want the most To fantasize your ghost I'm counting the days, acquiring the taste I'm sick of looking at the stupid look on your face Out in the desert, you buried your wine And you looked at the roots and you made up your mind You want to resurrect it from the dream that awoke you And spoke from your shoulder and said, "You are no one" You had a notion to keep killing time But the clock is a wreck and you've already died So leave it all behind and like the others before you Just walk out the door and don't tell them goodbye Ah, where is the fun in feeding the beast? I'm running from the one with the symmetrical teeth I'm counting the days, acquiring the taste I'm sick of looking at the stupid look on your face I'm counting the days I'm losing my way I'm counting the days I'm sick of looking at the stupid look on your face
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