this house is full of ghosts
the ghosts of who we used to be
these empty rooms cut holes in me
sunny should be upstairs, playing bratz dolls
whitney should be ,dancing down the halls
bry and tell, should be haveing a game-cube war
but that was before
now I feel like a guest, in the place I used to call home
these rooms are poison for my soul
these pictures, reminders, that we used to be whole