This house quivers and groans,
The blues cover the walls in different tones.
I sit in my room, in walls of paper
I bid on my life but I have no takers.
Who would want to live in a box?
Who would want holes in their socks?
And their necks in a chain
Tugged on by an old bitch with a cane?
Who would want worry on their brow?
And a future so bleak it hurts to gaze at, even now?
Who would trade their bed for a sheet?
Who would trade a full fridge for no food to eat?
Every minute a new nightmare breeds;
I feel that on my lack of sleep it feeds.
Oh, God, where are you?
Help me, or send some sort of queue!
For fuck's sake,
I'm sick of this smile I must fake.
I need sleep
Or none of my sanity I will keep...
I have faith but I need answers,
Please, don't make me a funny little dancer.
I want to be a person
But with the situation, my soul worsens.
To play nice I need a reason,
Or pile it on and I'll make it murder season.
I feel my panicked heart as it blackens.
Just hold my hand, whatever happens.
Don't go,
Even if you don't like the show.
I feel myself growing faint;
On my head a deep sleep I paint.
The stairs grow lengthy,
But it's okay, I have lived plenty.
