beneath the clothes you wore to sleep was the softest
voice that ever spoke to me, asking, "are you warm under these sheets,"
and "are you sure that you want me?  these scars of mine are more than
skin deep, and there are ghosts in the air i breathe, and those ghosts will
haunt your dreams, they'll taunt you in your sleep, saying, 'oh we know
about the love you lost and need.  hope's become a dirty secret you keep.
and you're always the dreamer, never the dream.'  but i will listen to the
air above your street, and in seven years you will sing a song for me.  my
darling, you're only fifteen, but in seven years you will sing."  ahh. ahh.