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The Last man in a Ghost Town
mat_j
18 Aug 2003
The last man in a ghost town,
I walk the streets we knew,
Through the courtyards and the boulevards,
To the place where i met you.
I stood on the old stone bridge,
Watching memories pass me by,
I put my hands in my pockets,
Under a cold blue sky.
All notices of my conviction
Flutter in the breeze,
Every little thing about you
I can recall with ease.
The windows and the shop fronts,
No longer tell their story,
And from the broken buildings seap
Echoes of faded glories.
I stand at the gates again,
Where i began to believe,
That the other people vanished,
On the day you said you'd leave.
(Taken from Postcards from the Highway)
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