This house is full of ears, but I can't talk to anyone. they've heard this one a thousand times. the most exciting thing I do, hang half way out a third floor window, I'll throw lit cigarettes down.
And maybe I'll catch fire. and something warm to hold me, something pure to burn away the darkness that hides inside my mind. all that evil shit's not hard to find. I guess I only claim to be nice.
This house is full of eyes, but I can't look at anyone. they've seen this face one thousand times. the most relaxing thing I do, hang half way out my third floor window, look at rocks if I fall out.
I pray that I'll fall hard. and something tough to break me, something sharp to rip into my insides, I bleed out all this pain. sorry I don't even know your name. I guess for me it's easy this way.
Well, maybe I'll catch fire. something warm to hold me, something pure to burn away the darkness that hides inside my mind. all that evil shit's not hard to find. I guess I only claim to be nice.