Katie came softly
like a silhouette
In the parking lot
I don't know her yet
But then she's good to me
I think she understands
Then she touches me
With her cold, white hands
Oh, I don't know
Oh, she's a ghost
And then every night
Know she may appear
With her long white nails
And long silver hair
She's always good to me
I think she understands
And then she touches me
With her cold, white hands
Oh, I don't know
Oh, she's a ghost
No more flowers, in her bed. No more, she isn't there
Little wisps of smoke come into my room thorough the cracks in the ceilings, the floor, and my front door
Katie came softly
like a silhouette
In the parking lot
I don't know her yet
But she was good to me
I think she understands
Then she touches me
With her cold, white hands
Oh, I don't know
Oh, she's a ghost
The ghost is gone. Never to return. Still sometimes I pray. That she will return
An almost anti-blues/anti-rock style that masters classic sounds while mocking the industry’s perceived seriousness. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 27, 2018