The Meligrove Band
ghosts at my back
Step light
Step lightly over groundswells
Theyâre liable to swallow you whole
But lately
These ghosts at my back
Are stepping lighter
Than they ever have before
Their speech over my head
And over my mouth
They move across peripheral lines
Showing where theyâve clearly
Migrated south
And lowly kept their heads
Around, around, around
Call police
The telephone is screaming out
Cautionary tales
Iâd even think to take direction
Only if direction ever came
To saddle me with a guilty stricken spark
To stir the lightning
Weâve got nothing now
Weâll spare the dark