Cryptic Paste

Now that I’ve grown up, and I’m still afraid of my ghosts
From past
It doesn’t matter what I do
I remain a cryptic paste

Maybe the world would be better without me here
Will you cry?
When I’m gone
I pass your house and it’s all dark
I wonder if you were but a ghost I created in my mind

But you real, so real

Now that I’ve grown up, and I’m still afraid of my ghosts
From past
It doesn’t matter what I do
I remain a cryptic paste