The Ghost
Some fires never seem to burn, some lessons I guess I never learned
Sit in this house and stare at these walls, killing time until Jesus makes the call
And I'm cold, Oh, and I'm growing old
Truth be told, that woman she stole my soul, and left me to live with The Ghost
Some nights, I swear I hear her call, in the kitchen or maybe down the hall
Pour me a glass, swallow this hurt. Hanging around until they put me in the dirt
And I'm cold, Oh, and I'm growing old
Truth be told, that woman she stole my soul, and left me to live with The Ghost
And I'm cold, Oh, and I'm growing old
Truth be told, that woman she stole my soul, and left me to live with The Ghost
She left me to live with The Ghost
