Yesterday's Ghosts - Okta Logue

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