Okta Logue Yesterday's Ghosts
A big black cloud is rolling in and it seems
Like the river's flowing backwards
Don't frown, fall back asleep
And by the break of dawn you're out in the streets
Shivering on a bus seat, dreaming of color TV
Another morning comes, and on the ropes
You're hiding your hands from the cold
Wind hurts your eyes
Headlights sway on a gray horizon
And no there's no surprise
On the morning news
You wake up at times
Falling back asleep, it seems you run like lightning
The same old morning comes
On dead end roads
You're chasing down yesterday's ghosts