There was a ghost, here in my house
That talks just like it knows, everything about
The road, that we went down
As it underlines, everything I've kept, I've know inside
My mind is numb, a counterfeit my nerve
Tell me are you sick, of haunting me like this?
And I R-U-S-T, rust on your version of the truth
I carefully cut out empty space, for friends I knew
Another suitcase, of scar shaped souvenirs
That I've collected, every day that you're not here
Another closet, of busted up skeleton bones
I'm chasing off your, ghost
Books stacked three stories high
Between the pages they will find
Pictures of you
Am I in them, too?
Scar shaped souvenirs
Something in the sound, of car wheels at night
On a straight shot black-top road, where I thought I'd find
The ghost I used to know, it's all in my head
I never said I'd want to see you again
But that ghost was me, and who I used to be
I can't let it go, I wanna let it go
Another suitcase, of scar shaped souvenirs
That I've collected, every day that you're not here
Another closet, of busted up skeleton bones
Bones
Your bones
Writer(s): Jason Lawrence Ross, Thomas Juliano
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