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Ghosts

If you listen just right, you can almost hear it.

The symphony of secrecy, love and fear.

(Search for love, but finding fear.)

Like a moth to a flame, we become helpless

To the beautiful ghosts

That true love sheds.

We are all running our very own races,

Set out upon the most dangerous of places.

And through it all, we were left

With a void in our chests,

We're aching to fill.

The doves come

To gather our every need,

They lift them up to Heaven

Through the mouths from which we speak.

God, will you help us understand the meaning of it all?

Will you send your Angels down to us, at our every call?

Sometimes it seems the world is passing us

Faster than my eyes can adjust.

I can't decide

If I'm living or I'm dying.

So I test your love and I test your love, I test your love.

The doves come

To gather our every need,

They lift them up to Heaven

Through us now...

The doves come

To gather our every need,

They lift them up to Heaven

Through the mouths from which we speak.

Like a moth to a flame, we become helpless

To the beautiful ghosts

That true love sheds.

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written by OWEN, JOSHUA RYAN / RITCHEY, JIMMY / JONES, CHUCK

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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