Beautiful Lies

There's a ghost at the edge of my bed,
Stealing my sleep, although she's been dead,
a long, long time.
And she tells me, it's never as bad,
that your soul can revive you,
in spite of your head.
You don't even have to try,

Beautiful Lies

Watched an old man afloat down a stream,
he was clinging to drift wood,
no, it didn't look good.
He's a goner either way,
But something tells me,
he's better off dead,
No more living in photographs,
and things that she said.
He'll find peace on the other side,

Beautiful lies.