Walking in the night
when the moon is on the rise
casting shadows on the ground
I can feel their watching eyes.
Whispers in the wind
drifting to no end
I wonder what they say
in the messages they send.
I can feel them.
I can hear them.
I can see them.
I am out of touch.
Someday we'll be there too
drifting to no end
shadows on the ground
and whispers in the wind.
Out of touch.
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