The Ghost of My Lonely

Abandoned in the fifties after the war A freight elevator stuck between floors Obsolete machinery, splintered old chairs In a warehouse in Newark, New Jersey somewhere Dead air presses down, stifling and thick Something still dwells behind one of those bricks Curled up in a ball, it waits for me there In a warehouse in Newark, New Jersey somewhere A musty gray vapor that whispers my name It seeps through the wall and creeps to my brain It sighs and it groans as my soul is laid bare In a warehouse in Newark, New Jersey somewhere It mumbles and moans and drones of ancient tombs Of claustrophobic closets and dim, hollow rooms I cry out for help, echoes answer my prayer In a warehouse in Newark, New Jersey somewhere The ghost of my lonely, my lost and alone My hopeless and helpless, my can't go back home It's looking at me now with a dull, vacant stare In a warehouse in Newark, New Jersey somewhere