The Midnight Apparition

The swelling air of summer
Pressing on my heavy head
The weighing of a halo
Sinking in the swelling air

The feeling that I'm only
Waking in a useless bed
Insisting that I stay low
Squirming in the feeling there

The quieting of midnight
Falling like a block of lead
I'm resting in the faint glow
Sitting in the rocking chair

That's when the ghost of Summer
Ghost of Summer comes again
That's when the ghost of Summer
Comes around, comes around again

She's singing sweetly to me
Hearing voices of the dead
She's wispering soft and low
Fading in the failing light