There’s a letter on the desktop that I dug out of a drawer
\nThe last truce we ever came to
\nIn our adolescent war
\nAnd I start to feel the fever
\nFrom the warm air through the screen
\nYou come regular like seasons
\nShadowing my dreams
\nAnd the Mississippi’s mighty
\nBut it starts in Minnesota
\nAt a place that you could walk across
\nWith five steps down
\nAnd I guess that’s how you started
\nLike a pinprick to my heart
\nBut at this point you rush right through me
\nAnd I start to drown
\nAnd there’s not enough room
\nIn this world for my pain
\nSignals cross and love gets lost
\nAnd time passed makes it plain
\nOf all my demon spirits
\nI need you the most
\nI’m in love with your ghost
\nI’m in love with your ghost
\nDark and dangerous like a secret (don’t tell a soul)
\nThat gets whispered in a hush
\nWhen I wake the things I dreamed about you (don’t tell a soul)
\nLast night make me blush
\nAnd you kiss me like a lover
\nThen you sting me like a viper
\nI go follow to the river
\nPlay your memory like a piper
\nAnd I feel it like a sickness
\nHow this love is killing me
\nI’d walk into the fingers
\nOf your fire willingly
\nAnd dance the edge of sanity
\nI’ve never been this close
\nIn love with your ghost, ooh
\nOoh
\nUnknowing captor
\nYou never know how much you
\nPierce my spirit
\nBut I can’t touch you
\nCan you hear it
\nA cry to be free
\nOh I’m forever under lock and key
\nAs you pass through me
\nNow I see your face before me
\nI would launch a thousand ships
\nTo bring your heart back to my island
\nAs the sand beneath me slips
\nAs I burn up in your presence
\nAnd I know now how it feels
\nTo be weakened like Achilles
\nWith you always at my heels
\nThis bitter pill I swallow
\nIs the silence that I keep
\nIt poisons me I can’t swim free
\nThe river is too deep
\nThough I’m baptized by your touch
\nI am no worse than most
\nIn love with your ghost (in love with your ghost)
\nYou are shadowing my dreams
\n(In love with your ghost)
\n(In love with your ghost)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There’s a letter on the desktop that I dug out of a drawer The last truce we ever came to In our adolescent war And I start to feel the fever From the warm air through the screen You come regular like seasons Shadowing my dreams And the Mississippi’s mighty But it starts in Minnesota […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[15,18],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.sheer.us\/weblogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3293"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.sheer.us\/weblogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.sheer.us\/weblogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.sheer.us\/weblogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.sheer.us\/weblogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3293"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.sheer.us\/weblogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3293\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3294,"href":"http:\/\/www.sheer.us\/weblogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3293\/revisions\/3294"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.sheer.us\/weblogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3293"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.sheer.us\/weblogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3293"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.sheer.us\/weblogs\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3293"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}