There was a ghost, here in my house That talks just like it knows, everything about The road, that we went down As it underlines, everything I've kept, I've know inside My mind is numb, a counterfeit my nerve Tell me are you sick, of haunting me like this? And I R-U-S-T, rust on your version of the truth I carefully cut out empty space, for friends I knew Another suitcase, of scar shaped souvenirs That I've collected, every day that you're not here Another closet, of busted up skeleton bones I'm chasing off your, ghost Books stacked three stories high Between the pages they will find Pictures of you Am I in them, too? Scar shaped souvenirs Something in the sound, of car wheels at night On a straight shot black-top road, where I thought I'd find The ghost I used to know, it's all in my head I never said I'd want to see you again But that ghost was me, and who I used to be I can't let it go, I wanna let it go Another suitcase, of scar shaped souvenirs That I've collected, every day that you're not here Another closet, of busted up skeleton bones Bones Your bones