The ghosts of your past Fall in beside you As you walk down The Strand And into the square Somebody calls you You ignore their question It's the girl in the red dress You murdered in spring Turning the page For the ghosts of tomorrow The friendless and weak Leave their blood on your hands Burning with rage Swimming in sorrow You won't be alone For your ghosts will be there Look down from a great height At the figure below you Then into the distance Of a world unaware Touching the leg Where the flesh and the bone meet Folding the skin Combing the hair Turning the page For the ghosts of tomorrow The friendless and weak Leave their blood on your hands Burning with rage Swimming in sorrow You won't be alone For your ghosts will be there You won't leave alone For your ghosts will be there