The Ghosts of What We Know

I'd lie there still if it weren't for the sleeping pills
Past the lens film spills making motion from the stills
When Ben sings to me in his voice anxiety
can't hide in between melody and misery

And when worry tears you I thread the needle through and try
to define the sides of this widely gaping wound
And we try to stay composed with these words stuck in our throats
when what scares us most are the ghosts of what we know could be true

Understand you, I do

And I can't remember who I was last December
And I, no, I can't remember why I was so in love

Zolpidem steals dreams, so does diphenhydramine
The alcohol in Queens and the moment you stop kissing me
Colored bars glows green again, turning 5 to 6 AM
Sick, I think of when she said,
"Stick to your guns but don't get stuck to them."

And when worry tears you I thread the needle through and try
to define the sides of this widely gaping wound
And we try to stay composed with these words stuck in our throats
when what scares us most are the ghosts of what we know could be true
Could be true, could be true

Understand you, I do