Was a ghostnhere in my housenthat talks just like it knowsneverything aboutnthe road that we went downnncause it underliesneverything I keptnI know insidenmy mind is numbnI counterfeit my nerventell me are you sicknof haunting me like thisnand I R-U-S-T rustnon your version of the truthnI carefully cut out empty spacenfor friends I knewnnanother suitcasena scar shaped souvenirsnand I've collectednevery day that you're not herenanother closetnof busted up skeleton bonesnI'm chasing off your ghostnnbooks stacked 3 stories highnbetween the pages they will findnpictures of younam I in them too?nnThere's something in the soundnof car wheels at nightnon the straight shot blacktop roadnwhere I thought I'd findnthe ghost I used to knownit's all in my headnI never said I don't want to see you againnbut that ghost was menand who I used to benI can't let it gonI want to let it gonnAnother suitcasenof scar shaped souvenirsnthat I've collectedneveryday that you're not herenanother closet of busted up skeleton bonesnbones, you're bonesn