Doesn't pass a day I don't feel strange without you
I still drag the depths of that dried out lake
Specter, doctor, cop on where I paint my hatred
Crying loud, but no one flies the plane
In the backyard, winter corridor
The stark, white room examination
Felt you lace the rainwater, clean as fate
Spectral sunrise, lock and dam decay
The wind, the wings of soft ascension
Saw you braid the blackbirds, clear as day
Specter, doctor, cop on where I paint my hatred
Crying loud, but no one flies the plane