Ghosts

Out on the highway, it's snowing tonight.
Flurries flicker by in the halogen lights.
Down on the street, against the pavement below,
Phantoms rise up from white ghosts of snow.

Refrain:
I see ghosts--memories that may not be there,
I smell ghosts--snap decisions from thin air.
I hear ghosts--in the things that people say,
I touch ghosts--can't make them go away:
I see ghosts.

Here in the middle, an innocuous word
Spoken harshly alters what I have heard.
In my mind, things always aren't what they seem;
Behind the words, the phantom rises, shows what they mean.

Refrain

Close-range, my close friend is talking to me.
What she says is not always what I see.
Behind her, the ghost speaks, so smooth and so real,
I listen to the ghost and I trust what I feel.

Bridge:
What did she say? What did she mean?
Why do I think that's a reflection on me?
Was he for real? Did he tell lies?
My reason is blurred by the ghosts in my eyes.

Refrain

Trapped in the vision, lost in the lie,
I am betrayed by my own inner eye.
Reality shifts, yes, and chaos is random:
I say I want the truth, but I seek out the phantom.

Refrain

Notes: A friend of mine said something that resonated with me, when talking about his own insecurities and occasionaly paranoia. He said, "I see ghosts, I guess." I asked him if I could use the line.

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