There was a ghost, here in my house
Who talks just like it knows
Everything about, the road

that we went down
As it underlines
Everything I kept, I know inside

My mind is numb,
A counterfeit my nerve
And tell me are you sick

Of haunting me like this?
And I R-U-S-T, rust on your
version of the truth

I carefully cut out empty
space for friends I knew


Another suitcase of scar shaped souvenirs
That I've collected every day
that you're not here

Another closet of busted up skeleton bones
Chasing off your ghost


Books stacked three stories high
Between the pages they will find
Picture of you

Am I in them too?

Scar shaped souvenirs


Something in the sound
Of car wheels at night

On a straight shot black-top road
Where I thought I'd find
The ghost I used to know

it's all in my head
I never said I'd want to see you again
But that ghost was me

And who I used to be
I can't let it go
I won't let it go


Another suitcase of scar shaped souvenirs
That I've collected every day

that you're not here
Another closet of busted up skeleton bones Bones
Your bones