Basement Ghost Singing

This is from Armor for Sleep's Things to Do When Your Dead, I wish I would have wrote it.

I did a review of the whole album on my other blog

Basement ghost singing
Armor for sleep

Now I'm in your basement
I'm laying low to keep out of your way
I hear your footsteps
Move the floorboards above my head
I have my own routine now
I'm keeping busy in my own way
I'm learning ways to not feel
Like I'm down here forever

I hear your footsteps
Move the floorboards above my head
I hope you know that I'm down here
Just for you

I sang a song to you through the floor
To reach you upstairs
I thought I heard you call out for more
I know that's crazy
I'm pretty sure that I'm lost again
It won't get through to you
I won't get through
I think I won't get through

I'm gonna close my mouth now
You don't need more noise in your life
I miss you more than you know
But I know time makes you move on

I hear your footsteps
Move the floorboards above my head
I hope you know that I'm down here
Just for you

I sang a song to you through the floor
To reach you upstairs
I thought I heard you call out for more
I know that's crazy
I'm pretty sure that I'm lost again
It won't get through to you
I won't get through
I think I won't get through

The lights are off
And I'm lost again
The lights are off

soundless beings

Walking though a small town at night.
The dark street wet with the spring mud.
The wind is slowly blowing.
Soundless beings flow.

A smell is in the air,
A smell of wet burnt things.
The smell of destruction halted mid swing.
Soundless beings flow.

Before there was lightning,
Before there was thunder.
Now is calm.
Soundless beings flow.

A house sits in ruin.
The destruction almost complete.
Wispy memories, float like mist.
Soundless beings flow.

A man in dark dirty coveralls,
Watching the fog,
Maybe he sees, maybe not.
Soundless beings flow.

The man looks up,
His face calm.
Placing his hands on the charred piano.
He starts to play.

Soundless beings flow.

Passions Rekindled

A slow leaching feeling surrounds a few souls.
Slowly building, winding tendrils
Taking hold while we live our lives.
Unseen, unbidden it envelops us.

Realization does not banish it.
Realization only gives it strength.
Struggle as we may, we can only shift the load.
Until its weight becomes nature to us.

Life in a fog, we can barely see.
Bright lights, sharp extremes.
All is what shocks us. Bound, helpless.
Unable to even cry. The sorrow is life.

Desensitized, hollow, we no longer see our prison.
Endless black, a world with no change.
Alone peering, straining with all senses.
As dead as we are, we think we are strong.

Until the day we collide.
We realize there are others of our kind.
Lonely ships, lost soldiers.
We meet, embrace and part. Our lives bright for a moment.

Solitude descends once more.
Light passes back to darkness.
We return to our prison.
Thinking the familiarity is safety.

We leave the new life at the door.
Remembering the warmth of a touch.
The yearning obsesses us once more.
And we struggle anew.

Our passions rekindled.

Whispers from the Past

I hear whispers, barely audible.
Swirling about my mind.
Past feelings, past emotions.
People and places held so dear.

Their voices seem to smile at me from the shadows.

I see their faces
I remember their pains,
Our shared sorrows,
Our shared victories.

I call out their names, singing our histories to the wind.

So few have the will to answer back.
I have left so many by the wayside.
Are they hungry? Are they cold?
Do they need me?

So few remain, so hard to catch and hold.

Like walking steadily away.
Things seen get smaller,
more distant, less distinct.
Why didnt I hold on?

I wonder how much of my life I have forgotten.

The places and faces.
Some are solid.
Others vanish like smoke.
Gone, like rose petals in a spring storm.

Erosion

Jeeze I am so morose.

-------------------------

Erosion

How odd the human soul?
Do we all have one?
Do we loose it?
What entails the human soul?
Exaclty how, and why?
What use does it have, other than to be lost?

I use mine to bargain.
I have never lost.
I think, I hope, I wonder.

I feel my soul sometimes.
Its a great empty chasm.
The endless black.

I wonder what I would be if I lost me.
Thats my soul.
The nothing is what I feel.

Was something there at one time.
I think so.
I feel the dust.

I feel it in the waste.
In that old place.
The once filled space.

The overtaxed, the worn.
The dust driven, the dust caught.
The dust.

The dust from the erosion of my soul.