So I'll keep searching, for a place called home.
I'll rip my roots from this earth, into the unknown.
Is it for the dreams I chased or the ones I caught.
This mystery, this mystery is killing me.
So now I'll leave behind a murder scene,
My life isn't real, its just a silhouette and when the sun goes down, I won't exist.

I will be the forgotten, bread crumbs and white stones cant follow me.

Overwhelming, constantly tearing at the seams.
The threads that hold me together, they envelop me.
I am a shaking man, as my body breaks against the wind,
I begin to slowly unravel.
Overwhelming, I'm tearing at the seams.
The threads that hold me together, they envelop me.

I am the ghost in your empty home.

I don't exist.