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.