You’re a phantom, a wide-eyed ghost

Leaving nothing but tracks in the snow

They’ll hunt you down, spears and flame

Behind their backs as they call your name

 

//Come out, darling,

Out of your den

Say good evening

To these gentlemen

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Being lonely is like missing something inside you:

A note of a melody,

The word of a lyric you know you should know.

You can’t name what you need because you don’t know it,

But you need it.

Your need for it fills your daily atmosphere

and kills your lungs as it takes over all room for air.

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