How can I inspire hope, when I find, no comfort of my own? All that follows in my wake is an ever growing trail of ghosts My failure compounds with their bodies in the ground Every breath I take is a debt I'll always owe What could I do for the world when those in my heart lie feeding the worms? I remember, I remember the ghosts So there's some form to the ether But even if I have no memory How many names have I written on stone steps, slabs, sterile beds? How many are now artifacts? Have I sent them straight to their deaths? I use so much, and I give so much less I give nothing in return for my life of excess Ten years ago I cheated death and have since kept him at bay every time we've met Five more and I've left nothing of significance I use so much, and I give so much less I give nothing in return for my life of excess Remorse, release, my thoughts ignite often Yet still we leap to our coffins What could you learn from me? I have no answers, to victory where fly my pleas? I am nothing but a future haunting Cold sentiment precedes even warmer tendencies But maybe one day, you'll find your hope in the ghost that follows me