Phantoms - Kylesa

Oak trees at night are hiding places for those who can’t sleep

Writing in parking lots with nothing to buy

Empty stores and overgrown grass

Picture postcard of America

Raindrops look like spider webs by the street lamp tonight

I can remember no farther back than this

I contrived to purge my mind

No farther back than this I thought of looking for the key

No farther back than this — For a door with no lock

No farther back than this

In this sunlight, night rolls through my eyes

I saw a sea of flames and smoke in the sky

They don’t hear me;

they are phantoms

Hallucinations without number

They don’t hear me;

they are phantoms

Nightmare and sleep in a nest of flames

Night becomes invisible — invisibly clear

Running in circles over and over again

Inspiration is is hard to find when everything feels wrong

Countless hours speed by — mostly wasted and few remembered

Every action is a consequence

Drop out and believe

Constant puzzles to fill the void

There really aren’t any answers

Just endless riddles

Dreams and sub conscience haunt

Knowing something you can’t awake

Same old shit another day