Memories come to me like a ghost;
finding my way home through Skid Row,
I have to admit though....
I'm a little cryptic, a little mystic;
through the beauty and the scenery,
loneliness gives me a little mercy;
a little mercy through the ghost,
through the shadows and the sadness,
where's the madness?
'cause we're all a little shallow inside,
nowhere to hide,
I'll follow the pathway through history,
shadows come to me like a ghost,
I'm at one with the violence,
and I have to say I love the violence,
agony and anger; pain and misery is dead,
the silence goes to my head,
full of fear...I forgot to breathe as I leave the world behind,
I turn back time by the tips of my fingers, the steps linger,
cracks of lightening, dove's heightening,
I'm in the silence.