....ThE wAiT fOr My GhOsT.....

she still waits so still
at the corner like a dream
she is lost but her soul flies
past every single moment we lived.

tonight she won't be having the supper
like she's not been taking the phone calls anymore
...a wait,so anxious
.....a tear,so precious
call it her quest,a quest for her man
she knows that he'll return,with all the roses
war-torn countries have build up this,
that stand between her and his kisses

she wakes up to a new morning
ties her hair up and goes to watch the news
if the crazy men in suits
have called the war all quits

no,its not an affirmative
so she prepares herself for the day,all way
with her wet cheeks
...........a scream inside,so clear
.....a feel so high,so near
call it a recess,a recess from her dreams
scars speak volumes 'bout the red streams

she won't believe that he's dead and gone
she won't hear it that way alone
you got to tell her to go to bed
cause she's been crying all day,all way
i'm gone but my roses will reach her for sure
i'll be in her dreams the next christmas
till then heal her,
she is waiting in the frost....
.....unaware that she's waiting for my ghost