Ghosts - Logh

I’m writing reports of the days and the nights

Locked up for years in a measure of mind

When with a net of nothing

I was trying to catch the motions of a mind

And the methods of a crime.

i never saw the chance

And never what i held in my hands

The lights are all red in this town

Where i’m killed by exhausts

And alcohols that dry out my skin

I never had a clue of the role that i played

But that’s the condition and the price that we pay