Ghosts in the park

Appear just after dark

Killers, children...

But no-one has a harp

They look like tourists

It makes me want to laugh

Under floorboards

It's hard to fly a kite

Underwater

My cigarette won't light

Standing in the shade

I'm getting frostbite

Strange as I seem

I'm getting stranger by the minute

Look in my dreams

They're getting stranger by the minute

When I'm drowning

You drag me up to you

Rings in the water

My only residue

But you're just fiction

And I'm a twisted boy