I'm not breathing anymore without you
all the pleasant dreams i had are nightmares
and every time i see you i die inside
i am just a ghost within your white sheets
i am merely fictitious, i am empty
I've become nothing more then the perfect picture
and at night when the moon is shining brightly
i can't help but sing to the song you wrote me...just me
i hear ghosts a whispering in my ears
telling me that i should stop pretending
pretending i don't love you when i still do
i am just a ghost within your white sheets
i am nothing more then a ghost within your sheets
-musical interlude-
if i wrote you a letter would you read it?
or would it seem it had been written without proper ink
if i confess that i cant live without you
would i seem a little less a ghost within your sheets
