Ginger

Certain kinds of nights,
Find me swimming alone,
Inside my bed.

Certain kinds of songs,
leave me without a sound,
without a trace.

Now I know,
Something ain't right,
Inside of her.

Certain kinds of sounds,
Find me slippin' away,
Drifting away.

Certain kinds of light,
Find me falling into,
Her summer dress.

Now I know,
Something ain't right,
Inside of her.

It's not out of respect,
The door is closed but the walls still haunt me.
Still haunt me.

Now I know,
Something ain't right,
Inside of her.