People have a way of living in my head long after they're gone In the dead of night At the darkest hours of day A vampire will incarnate from his grave and shrieks so loud the sun takes refuge behind heavy curtains And every dream disappears But I hope for tiny stars to shine An interval for silence short, short, short as it may be To prove the people in my head are ghosts and vampires live in hell There is no hell, alas, outside my head nor a graveyard beyond my heart. If so, one's precious moment is when they're gone To bed, or to the sky... But the people in my head never sleep or die.. I feed them with a mouthful of tranquilizers and they howl even more. What if I am the one howling in my head? One can never say for sure..