I live in a box. Cardboard floors catch my falls But they are cold I need a warm embrace And whispers exploding into flames
Burn the box down There are too many secrets
I chase ghosts down gray hallways I talk to God I hear the Devil I seek angels but there are no angels I am dead yet breathing How can that be?
This can’t rhyme because life doesn’t rhyme and death doesn’t keep time
I lie down on this bed My hospital gown doesn’t fit I look like shit I can’t lie anymore so i sit
I am a ghost in your future And mine
Give me time. You can’t.
Too many lifetimes have escaped me