Visions

When I wasn't 16 I used to see strange things some vaguely resembling ghosts or spectral hosts I was always fond of the notion I was drenched in some spirit ocean And all my visions merely the symptom of eyes open so wide That I could peer into the other side You're the freckles all along the hairline Revelations from feeble spirt half-lifes You're the ghost that I was born to know You're the throat from which the echo's thrown You're the freckles all along the hairline Revelations from feeble spirt half-lifes You're the ghost that I was born to know You're the throat from which the echo's thrown One day without warning the spirits stopped their warring The devil ceased imploring I said banished from my bed Or had I hallucinated?