Reading the great debates of the intellects of history
I find myself asleep in Søren's solitary room
Where I dream of the library
Looking through books, magazines, and newspapers
Listening to the words of all the dead men that live
in pages of written words

"The task must be difficult
for challenge inspires the noble hearted"
But who can live that way?
The living don't get it
and the dead can't live it

My body's tired but I was hired
to put away the books and journals
They fly around without a sound
but I don't see a ghost anywhere

I cried in the library
I hid my face in my arms and told you all my troubles
The walls are paper thin here
and there's no access to one another
You can't get through

My body's tired so I was fired
for leaving out the books and journals
I hid inside to watch them fly around
I don't see a ghost anywhere