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As I try to tell this story my skin's no longer tight, |
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As if it wants to leave and get away from me, |
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But I've lived through this night of fright, |
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And found real signs of other life, |
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In disbelief I'll tell you what I've seen... |
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It started out as simply normal driving in my car, |
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Taking in the world and marveling the stars above, |
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When a woman out of nowhere appeared to be in need, |
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So I stopped to reach a helpful friendly hand, |
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But something wasn't right! |
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She wouldn't speak at all but I felt this urge to help her, |
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As I told the girl to please get in my car, |
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She looked on the verge of death pure white and freezing cold, |
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So I placed my coat around her fragile arms, |
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In a couple minutes time her face showed signs of life, |
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She finally spoke and asked to take her home, |
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She gave to me an address I assured her to relax, |
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For in minute's time she'd be there safe and warm, |
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As I came across her cottage my hitchhiker was home, |
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She thanked me so and walked up through the door, |
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As I turned to pull away I remembered of my jacket, |
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She wore it as she struggled to stay warm, |
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I left my car and rang the bell thinking she'd be waiting, |
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Instead I got the mother of my girl, |
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She said that she'd been waiting and not to say a word, |
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And down a narrow hall she took my hand and led the way, |
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We stopped in a tiny room that looked as if un-lived, |
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All around sat pictures of my stranger's face, |
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But the borders they were black the signature of death, |
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She informed me that my passenger was dead, |
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I didn't believe a word she was sitting right beside me, |
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Only minutes back riding in my car, |
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She took my hand and led me back outside and through a gate, |
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To a private cemetery in the yard, |
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On a grave there sat a picture of my unexpected guest, |
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From the grave I learned she died some time ago, |
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She said in stranger's cars her daughter finds a ride, |
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For an accident had brought her to the ground, |
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And every night she comes home to please her lonely mother, |
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It's an instinct from the time she spent on earth, |
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But she is gone she assured me death had come, |
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And this ghostly image was living on in my mind, |
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I told her to cherish her spirit, |
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She just sat and cried at the grave, |
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I told her to cherish her spirit, |
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She just sat and cried at the grave, |
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In the cold she was in mourning at the passing of her child, |
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So I felt the need to leave and let her be, |
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But I stopped to quickly question who was my freezing stranger? |
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She was the perfect image of the girl, |
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As I turned to leave the madness I caught a flash of something, |
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It was sticking out from underneath the grave, |
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In a shocking revelation I became at one with death, |
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As instantly I learned the woman spoke the truth, |
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For in the grave before me my jacket in the ground, |
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The one I gave my stranger on this night, this very night! |
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She was my stranger, yet she was dead, familiar stranger. |
