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Old Haunts for My Ghosts


I’ve lost at least a dozen childhood friends
To overdoses and suicide feeling like it just never ends
I could’ve been more open with my emotions
But I chose to keep’em inside & locked away for years hopin’
That they would fade instead they all manifested
Through my own addictions, rage, frustrations and depression
So any semblance of normality’s non existent
And some days my face displays a haunting grimace
They wanna witness my downfall and laugh at my failures
Under a thickening air of apprehension tailored
To my personal demons
Always exceeding the reasonable depth of my soul
Yes I believe in life after death
Passing inexorably beyond the veil
Reverberating thru the dark like a howling gale
Faces so pale and white like cocaine powder
Makes you numb to the world but not to a chilling encounter


I know the old haunts for my ghosts
I always see them when I’m close
Sometimes their presence I crave most
I know the old haunts for my ghosts
I know the old haunts for my ghosts
They never see me when I’m close
Between a black, red and white rose
I know the old haunts for my ghosts


Like a winding and unpredictable corridor
Time flows and only slows if there’s a more
Unsettling premonition appearing out of thin air
Yes I’m aware of the altar out in the clearing
Ancient yet remarkably well preserved
In the midst of tempestuous weather creating hell on earth
Unresponsive but clinging to life
Having walked the flatline twice
And third times the charm in sight
As fate would have it I’m still breathing but guilt ridden
That I’m here and they’re not and why I’m plagued with visions
They dismiss’em and chalk’em up to fatigue
And my paranoid delusions resulting in a degree
Of speculation / Adding fuel to the mystery
Of my state of mind that’s been muddied by inaccuracies
And omissions / Wishin’ that I could ask
For a last cigarette from the girl in the horned goat mask