Barely Living Room

In my bad dream there's a hallway to
 A barely living room
 TV's on, dirty flower curtains drawn
 And I hate you, but I feel so bad for you too
 We're in a flat fescue meadow
 Browned by the cold
 Wearing the clothes of a ghost
 The clothes of a ghost
 And in my dream, you are me
 And I am sort of you
 And I'm thinking about some of the things that you did
 And it sort of feels like abuse
 Still I can smell the ocean
 Yet we're a thousand miles from any coast
 Wearing the clothes of a ghost
 In a flat fescue meadow
 Frozen dead by the cold
 In the clothes of a ghost
 The clothes of a ghost