[Written by Steven Wilson] Ghosts in the park Appear just after dark k**ers, children ... But no-one has a harp They look like tourists It makes me want to laugh Under floorboards It's hard to fly a kite Underwater My cigarette won't light Standing in the shade I'm getting frostbite Strange as I seem I'm getting stranger by the minute Look in my dreams They're getting stranger by the minute When I'm drowning You drag me up to you Rings in the water My only residue But you're just fiction And I'm a twisted boy