Milwaukee

There used to be so much ceremony Now there’s a place in the weeds That never stands up straight There was a gate to a path grown thick with trees Once we’d race through to Summer blackberries by the creek There’s a stairwell in Milwaukee I carved your name and mine In a dark wood fire door Ran my fingers through the ashes on the floor Looked through the lights to find your face Some ghosts want nothing more There will be palms with silver money Pressed so tight until it’s thrown to Some wish everybody knows And everybody’s made The fountain laughs at each bright coin Sinking low like starfish in the shade There's a stairwell... run my... I looked through the lights to find your face Some ghosts want nothing more Nothing more