Head Of Medusa

Nights Like These

Compositor: Nights Like These

Replay murdered history in front of me.
They can only see me as a child.
I haven't been there in years.
Home is so far from me now that these hands hold me under.
I'm disappearing into the walls that surround me.
I can't give what I don't have.
So I walk this lonesome road hand in hand.
With my ghost hand in hand.