Dover

we hold tight to the ghosts

in the stories,

we do everything

that we can to keep them alive.

we take turns in turning the pages,

in reading the words,

in showing the pictures,

the failures and the wait,

those days have past

set sail towards somewhere

we will come to fast.

we hold tight to bits of the past,

bits that keep the days

from aging that fast.

we take turns in setting the course,

what borders to cross

and what places to head to.

with their threads and regrets

and the guns that they pull

when they see

that you're on your way

out from this house that's on fire.

from fights you keep losing,

that's just a last try for the sand

not to slip through their hands.

and with hundreds of words,

they keep holding you back

and with promises

that they keep you off track,

but you're better than that

and you're better off happy

than waking up guilty of faults

and mistakes that never were real

the failures and the wait,

those days have past

set sail towards somewhere

we will come to fast.

the failures and the wait,

those days have past

set sail towards somewhere

we will come to fast.

with our hands tied to,

weights that pull

and drag towards dark waters

with our hands tied to,

ropes reaching for depths

from which we can't come back

with our hands tied to,

weights that pull

and drag towards dark waters

if yours are looser tied,

loosen mine and bring us back

back up

with our hands tied to,

weights that pull

and drag towards dark waters

with our hands tied to,

ropes reaching for depths

from which we can't come back

with our hands tied to,

weights that pull

and drag towards dark waters

if yours are looser tied,

loosen mine and bring us back