Walk through our kitchen

Your coffee cup sits still half full

A ghost of your habits

Swear I heard your whisper by the bedroom door

Like you were calling my name

Just like before

I see your face, I hear your name

Is it real or just the pain?

This whole damn thing is a delusion

My own mind's cruelest illusion

Cruelest delusion

Every creak of the floorboards, every single sound

Your phantom touch, it spins me 'round

My sister calls, says you're losing it bad

But how can a ghost make me feel so damn sad?

Just tell me, is this all in my head?

Or am I truly better off dead?

I see your face, I hear your name

Is it real or just the pain?

This whole damn thing is a delusion

My own mind's cruelest delusion