I Met a Ghost

I met a ghost
And I thought that it was me
Mighty like Casey, with Ezekiel’s knees
I met a ghost
And it looked a lot like me
In the hand of Michaelangelo, wearing Abe Lincoln’s beard

I met a ghost
Blowing smoke into the breeze
Had a hand made out of poetry and a head made of steel
Said I’m in love
And I can’t fight this disease
I got them crawling out my fingertips, I am a factory

I met a ghost
And I knew it was me
He said I’ve got a heart, I beg you, don’t believe
Me I’m old
And I’m showing my years
My heart is angry and distracted; a buzzing sack of bees