The Microphones

Great Ghosts


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I have my hopes of how I would be after living in exile
after closing your eyes to me
I even wrote scenes where I re-emerged boldly, bearded alive
with eskimo eyes
new baby on my back
but I didn't count the fact that I have ghosts in my mind, stored away
great ghosts of my life
great ghosts of old wives
and their howling
so I spend my wilderness time, rolling on the ground
pulling my hair and wrestling them of
yelling at none, punching snow
I gathered ghosts and gave them my lecture, bid them away, I pleaded and cried
there's no room in my life for you or your howling
let my undo these ropes and go on living without you
not just change where I live
go on get, I said
I had my hopes of how I would be after sending them of
after getting set free
but there's no such thing as living without their prowling
as you can see, having descended the hill
I still look like me, I still wallow as Phil
and forever will
I'm teaming with ghosts and I still whining for wives, unkniting my brow
but now I've surrendered
In fact I've joined in
You can hear us howling