Ladies in White

There is always
A Lady in White

In every empty home
On every breaking step
There is always
A Lady in White

And on every breaking rung
Glides her flowing white gown
Her quiet voice rings out
In every deafening silence
Oh, but who is she?
We always must know
Who is she?
Is she but a figure of imagination
Or did she truly used to be?
Oh, but who is she..?

In every aching stairwell
There is always
A Lady in White
Or at a vacant crossing
Is the Lady in White

Stories whispered
About a past
But we don't know what's true
We don't know what's true

Just a sweet perfume
Blowing past,
Wafting near
The same whose clicking heels
We hear
She is
The Lady in White

Rapping, echoing at our doors
There is always
The Lady in White