It's there On top of the cupboard there Sits next to you And see There on the ceiling A ghost Waiting to be free In the bathroom Watching you bathe Like a ghost ♪ Like a ghost of himself They say Like a ghost The stuffing knocked out of you She will search And buys his paper in the morning Hello Mrs. Wilson With his cat on his lap He watches the TV And he doesn't cry or get angry anymore And he doesn't want to change the world anymore Let it keep its own counsel ♪ On top of the cupboard there Sitting next to you There on the ceiling Unseen A ghost of himself Waiting to be free ♪ And from here I imagine you Not in my bed Collecting apples, windfallen From here I imagine you But not hanging over me Wrists on my shoulder But driving your car Swearing beautifully I imagine your body The tips of your elbows The pads of your feet Pampered completely I imagine reaching for you, touching you But not with tears With the beauty of every day Over and over I imagine you in the sunshine, maybe Whatever the weather Whatever is on TV I imagine you