Stayed up for ages
But the clock counts in hours
Asleep we watch standing
Let's give up on cowards
Speaking in fables
Burns out holes where we stand
Doors lean towards leaving
You know somebody's looking
Two tend to wake up
Let's see disparate footing
Beams help the light fall
Superstition is strong
Mostly suspicious
Looking sideways straight on
Like ideas or emblems we've been had
The way that ghosts watch themselves go down…
I'm my own suspicion
Of what it might mean
To be caught in a story
You were told in a dream
If we took the pictures
Our smiles staining the floor
Like ideas or emblems we've been had
The way that ghosts watch themselves go down
Writer(s): Matthew Morris Pond
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