Singing a tune To the ghostly doom He thinks that he can save me. I follow his light Knowing full well that night Could never quite release me. He pads up the stairs With his tune and the air growing crisper as I follow. His words like a knife Singing softly of life That we'll share in the bright tomorrow. And I want to believe, But instead I just grieve And my throat fills up with sorrow. Then he turns back to me For a moment to see The final result of his song. I don't know if he heard My last line of words I love you, let go, I am gone.