I trace your footprints in the snow， From my house to your door。 When it gets dark。 The train stops running in our ghosts， Dangers lie in all the snow， I go on foot。 The railway through the time， As the windows of your friends， When I went to the sea。 I pass the stations and the bars， I/pass the ruins of the house。 Where people lived。 The ghost of your mother came to me In a dream， And said you are not far。 I made my plans from a window of a dream， Headed for that ghost。 There are no photographs to prove， You existed in it all， That you ever were。 Letters that I meant to write， About movies and the times。 They‘re left on down。 These days most things are still the same， I am embarrassed by afraid， Of you are on a stiff， I still went to bay at night， Count the birds on the whites， To fall asleep。 The ghost of your mother came to me In a dream， And said you are not far， I 've made my plans from a window of a dream， Headed for that ghost。 Streets are quiet now It's late， There is no one around， I 'cross where I liked。 I don't remember anything， About what I did last night， Or where I was。 The window whistles in the trees， Starts singing to the sea， But there are no words。 I trace your footprints in the snow， From my house to your door。 When it gets dark。 The ghost of your mother， Whispered in my ear， You were not enough， So I made my plans from a window of a dream。 Headed for that ghost。