We Are Ghosts
The moon holds the lightAnd the moon's this spinning globeShedding light upon the roadThe bird won't flyAnd a bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing
We are ghostsWe are ghosts amongst these hillsFrom the trees of velvet greenTo the ground beneath our feetWe are ghostsWe are ghosts amongst these hillsPressing out along the shorePressing out along the shore
The mountain songMatters not the thoughts of thirdsMatters only to be heardAnd though I'm goneI will come again in SpringWhen the harvest can begin
We are ghostsWe are ghosts amongst these hillsFrom the trees of velvet greenTo the ground beneath our feetWe are ghostsWe are ghosts amongst these hillsPressing out along the shorePressing out along the shore