Faded Reign

My neighbourhood is haunted, pun intended

It's not like a regular ghost story, where they're scared to see 'em

They honour the ghosts, round these parts

Put up metal cutouts of 'em and everything

Thin like the street signs with names like Thoroughbred and Bridle that the kids shoot BBs at

They never let you forget the price of a subdivision, round here

When the men with diggers tear up dirt that's been baptized with blood and shoes and jawbones they can see whose graves they're disturbing in their rear view mirror

Closer than they appear

You can even walk through and sit with them

The ghosts, I mean

Maybe ask for forgiveness

Maybe pretend that in their shadow the pavement could crumble away and return to a time where life was better than it is now

Where grass blew tall and wild and the humming in the air was from insects intead of engines

Where we didn't have to comfort ourselves with iron imitations 'cuz we had the real thing

As if flesh and blood and warmth could ever be replaced by a statue

I wonder if they'll do that to us, next.