I had my hopes of how I would be
after living in exile, after closing all eyes to me
I have romanced scenes where I re-emerged boldly
and bearded alive with eskimo eyes
with new baby on my back, but from where?
I did not count the fact that I have ghosts in my mind, stowaways
great ghosts of my life
great ghosts of old wives
and their howling
so I spent my wilderness time, pulling my hair, rolling on the ground
wrestling them off
yelling at no one, punching snow
I gathered ghosts and gave them my lecture, I bid them away, pleaded and cried
and said there's no room in my life for you or you or your howling
let my undo these ropes and go on living without you
ot just change where we live
go on get
I had my hopes of how I would be after sending them off
after getting set free
but there's no such thing as living without their prowling
so as you can see, having descended the hill
I still look like me, I still wallow like Phil
forever will
I'm teaming with ghosts and I still whining for wives, unkniting my brow
but now I've surrendered
if you listen you can hear us howling