Ghost In The Machine

I stumble into the bedroom like a ghost into the fog
with memories of lovers past floating through my head
the condensation of last nights heat still lurks upon my bed
one night of passion and lust ends in a morning sob
im back here in the cold blooded stumble of my dissaray
hiding in the coolth of yesterdays pleasure trying to ease the pain
there is a ghost lurking around the edge of a broken mirror
Blowing the curtains and shaking the wind vane

I look into the broken mirror that was cast aside by the floor
7 years of bad luck, haunted by the image it bestows
i envision courtships present, past and below
acknowledging an unconcious coincidence in my rapport
One step towards the unknown the other towards common sense
each step ive taken has been seized in pretense
because the skin that wraps around my muscle is not my own
it belongs to the ghost, behind the heat of chance

Midnight in the city and i am transparent like the rain
I sit facing the east, with the north west wind taunting me
a lowly jack shaken by the memory of his king
but still the ghost follows me like an angel of the arcane
each route i make different is still same constant place
the wind shakes my parasol into the wings that i've embraced
and i am knocked into the glimmers of an open puddle
the murky waters revealed the image of my fathers face