I left the ghost I couldn't leave before
And somehow I found myself back in Baltimore
Despite everything, nothing disrespectful
Tonight every little spirit says something insightful
About a summer romance or the taste of a rose hip
The words are smoky as they pass through the ghost lips
Now I'm talking, I'm talking in my sleep about heaven
Until I slice open the blackbird and only find questions
This isn't a lesson in dissection ethics
I only want to hold the ghost under the lens
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