He comes in the room
Alone again, afriad again
He feels cold, he smels the pain
He sees the ghost
Shes in the room
Shes so afried
He feels her
He sees her
Shes crying
Shes scarde

He starts to walk
He starts to talk
He starts to listen
To hear her voice

He looks and sees
The way she is
Hes not afriad
Of what shell be
He sees the ghost
Shes in the room
He feels her
He sees her
Shes not crying
shes not scarde

He starts to walk
He starts to talk
He starts to listen
He hears her voice

She feels good now
She feels complite
Shes not a ghost
Shes like the wind
Shes an angle
Dressed in white
she sees him
and starts to whisper
I am not here
I am gone

He starts to walk
He starts to talk
He already listened
He already knows