ghost detective song

empty inside i'm asking my mirror
what does it see, what does it want
blodspatter poetry, insomnia prose
the answers i look for are under my nose

fucking with ghosts i look for the killers
my cofee is cold but i'm still alive

family tragedies look like an act
considering it usual i must be mad
chasing the evil or my own personal tail
it must be so noble before i fail

fucking with ghosts i look for the killers
my cofee is cold but i'm still alive

pain is my cooworker - we get along
death is my welcomer whispering secrets
of those chalky figures down on the floor
they're me life i could admit it

fucking with ghosts i look for the killers
my cofee is cold but i'm still alive