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I trace your footprints in the snow
from my house to your door
when it gets dark
The train stops running in our ghosts
dangers lie in all the snow
I go on foot
The railway dragged through the time
pass the windows of your friends
and out to the sea
I pass the stations and the bars
pass the ruins of a house
where people lived
the ghost of your mother came to me
in a dream
and said you were not far
I made my plans from a window of a dream
headed for that coast
There are no photographs to prove
you existed at all
that you ever were
Letters that I meant to write
about movies and the times
they are left on down
These days most things are still the same
I am embarrassed by afraid
of your honesty
I still went to bay at night;
count the birds on the wires
to fall asleep
the ghost of your mother came to me
in a dream
and said you were not far
I've made my plans from a window of a dream
headed for that coast
Streets are quiet now
It's late
There is no one around
I cross where I liked
I don't remember anything
about what I did last night
or where I was
The window whistles in the trees
starts singing to the sea
But there are no words
I trace your footprints in the snow
from my house to your door
when it gets dark
The ghost of your mother
whispered in my ear
"you were not enough"
So I made my plans from a window of a dream
headed for that coast