I don't know why, I am here myself
But through your eyes I see
Grow through the cracks of the city
And the flowering weeds
Nobody likes a spook or so I've deduced
And all these seeds will grow
I'd rather be lost than found, I thought I would loose my mind
Past the billboards to the trees
No one else seems to know
And I can tell, you are not real
Girl, what are you doing here
And all these things will go
But that doesn't mean I want them around
But I have loved some ghosts in my time