CIRCA:

Chasing after ghosts,
Running through the shadows
In search of what has passed.
Like séances replayed,
There's whispering in the wind
Echoing from the past,
The ghosts of history
Living in the rear-view mirror.

A vision mesmerizing,
Moving in the mist, dissolving
Until invisible at last.
Seeing what we wish to see,
A vision of our own creation
Made of memories to last.
While the ghost of what could be
Is staring back at you
Inside the rear-view mirror,
Chasing after ghosts.

Seeking shelter from the rain,
Running back to home again.
Memories that will ever last,
Running back to home again.

On the wings of a cloudless sky,
Silver sound leads the way for the ride.
Everyone, everywhere in every land,
Can hear that magic sound
Lost in every way again until we're found.

Chasing after ghosts,
Searching on and on forever
A constant mystery,
Searching on forever.
There's nothing left to see
In the rear-view mirror,
There's only history.

Seeking shelter from the rain,
Running back to home again.
Memories that will ever last,
Running back to home again.