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?