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A Ghost Beneath the Tower - The Winston Jazz Routine/Nathan Phillips
What is in your mirror
Medicine for sadness
Postcards taped upon it
With soap in scripted letters
From your loving mother
Don't trade her for some other
Truth is how you see it
Sorry it just seems fit
I felt your shadow on the way home
I felt your tower again again
What is in your closet
Boxes stacked from left to right
Packed and packed for hours
You gently wrap your glassware
Place them in the chrysler
And free the ghost that haunts you
Just remember happiness
It's not some sack of polaroids
I felt your smile on the way home
I felt your tower again again
I felt your shadow on the way home
I felt your tower again again
