Ghost towns and carousels down by the river.

I keep locking my door,
Living in a ghost town can be quite scary.
I cover everything up by a veil,
So those ghosts will stay away from me.

I surround myself with everything I was ever against,
that way no one can come close.
I lie about the little things so no one will know when I cry wolf.

I send out the wrong signals, and sink into the backdrop.
I'm hoping no one will spot me;
hoping no one will notice me here;
hoping they can see through me,
to the picture I painted, waiting for them inside.

I spilled the paint on the canvas, and I drew from my dreams.
I won't let go, and I can't let go, but it's been years.
I painted a smile on the face so they would overlook me;
So they would think I was someone else.
I'm not.

I'm still locked inside this ghost town,
and I can't seem to find a way out.