Who's softly slipping down the stairs?
Is someone sitting in that empty chair?
Who's moving the air and brushing my hair with their fingertips?
Someone's coming, (ready or not)
I hear them breathing, (in the mystery spot)
Rattling locks and winding the clocks,
Leaving fingerprints.
Someone's whispering in my ears, all my hopes and all my fears,
Counting the years and catching my tears on their fingertips.
Something's different, (about this place)
Something hiding, (in that empty space)
Walking the halls and pounding the walls leaving fingerprints.
Someone's coming, (ready or not)
I hear them breathing, (in the mystery spot)
Rattling locks and winding the clocks,
Leaving fingerprints,
Leaving fingerprints.
Who's that passing through that door?
Another sign I can't ignore,
They cross the floor and touched me once more with their fingertips.
Something's different, (about this place)
Something hiding, (in that empty space)
Walking the halls and pounding the walls leaving fingerprints,
Leaving fingerprints,
Leaving fingerprints,
Leaving fingerprints.
Someone laughs and reaches down,
Cracks the plates and spins the world around on their fingertips.
