Theory of Ghosts

I've a theory of ghosts and i'm a monster to girls

I stick in their heart like a rusty spur

But i've a theory of ghosts:

They're alive and we're all dead;

That they're trying to tell us is that it's this way around

And i've a theory of girls

They always seem to leave in the spring

As if they know that it hurts more

To carry a heartbreak through the summer

In the calender storm, i circled a day and tried to hold on

And in the last powercut,

I whispered her name 'til the lights came on

Smoked my indian pipe

Listened to the static, the snow on the wire

Smoked my indian pipe

Listened to the static, the snow on the wire

I have one photograph that captures her smile

But i don't have a tape of her laugh

Watercolors can't help me