Windowsill

Will you follow me here or am I leading a ghost to the edge
Is there someone behind me or the sidewall just crawling again?
Thoughts are deceiving sometimes
I'm not in this alone

Your windowsill haunts me as you're on your way to go

Home, is this home?
I don't know

It's warm, it's warm
But fire turns to ash

I put my hands to the sky and I beg for hail and rain
Something to wash me of my dirty hands and my knees
I've been crawling so long, been crawling to see you in the light

As the sun ascends my eyes, roll in my head

Home, is this home?
I don't know

It's warm, it's warm
But fire turns to ash