Sssch
Listen!
Can you hear it?
The sound of wheels turning in the dead of night.
Ghosts whispering; are you sure you heard that right?
The writing on the wall is in blood, not ink.
Get out of my head! Can you hear what they think?
The skeletons are dancing in the basement to the sound of violence,
I am defying gravity in the face of silence.
Flying away with my eyes towards the sun,
allowing the light to brighten out the barrel of your gun.

But the senseless act of defiance and refusal of reliance does not make a fighter,
in the void of reality you will only ever learn to despise her.
Can we make not a ground for battle, but a field of flowers?
The defenseless act of compliance is the start of what we can call ours.

So listen closely:
They are just whispers and not shouts,
fueled by the blood-soaked doubts.
Easy to ignore if you keep her hand in your,
dance through the night and forget what was before.
If the flowers grow and fear doesn’t stop what is about to be,
we can tell the story of a love that suddenly broke free.