It's an ache in the heart from a sad goodbye,
With the trace of a tear in the corner of an eye,
Never reaching the moon or the stars,
Or whatever lies above.
It's a lone bird singing in the dawn's first light,
When the day's still perfect and the world seems right,
It's the sound of a distant guitar,
Just the ghost of a love.
Maybe it's the scent that you can't quite place,
Or a voice in your head that can't find a face,
And then suddenly you see her again,
And it fits like a glove.
Sometimes you think about what might have been,
When a pair of bad actors exit their scene,
And the emptiness fills with the pain,
Of the ghost of a love.
With the trace of a tear in the corner of an eye,
Never reaching the moon or the stars,
Or whatever lies above.
It's a lone bird singing in the dawn's first light,
When the day's still perfect and the world seems right,
It's the sound of a distant guitar,
Just the ghost of a love.
Maybe it's the scent that you can't quite place,
Or a voice in your head that can't find a face,
And then suddenly you see her again,
And it fits like a glove.
Sometimes you think about what might have been,
When a pair of bad actors exit their scene,
And the emptiness fills with the pain,
Of the ghost of a love.
+5
