Underneath the cloak of darkness, you can't hear a sound
Inside you chest, your heart begins to pound
Around the time you close your eyes for sleep
Across your room, you hear the smallest peep
Against your eardrum, the sounds begin to beat
Beyond your door, you hear the stomp of feet
Under your covers, you start to pray
After a while, the sound goes away
Over time, you calm yourself down
Up from your bed, you have a look around
Into the hall, you begin to tread
Until you hear me whisper, "you're already dead."
