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lyrics

Flickering light I haven’t seen
since I was about seventeen
You don’t know what you miss the most
Until you’re visited by the ghost

Cigarettes and sticky tack
Holding up glowing stars in your Pontiac
I felt so alive in the bright and quiet snow
Now I’m riding with the ghost

It’s a gift I don’t know how to use
It’s a path to somewhere I can’t choose
I’m taking steps but it doesn’t show
Blame it on the ghost

Was it ever really there
Was the deal you made ever fair
The dogs are growling and I don’t know
It's probably the ghost

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Packy Lundholm Chicago, Illinois

Chicago musician/producer/songwriter occasionally makes his own records and puts 'em right here

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