Tonight has been a rather special night
Brain pollution and hysteria dripped from the back of a trolley bus
This entire suburb is stricken by stable paranoia and
scarred memories, stored in tapes, for you to play and repeat
Your forehead's missing parts, and charts, and hearts
A sense of constant threat slowly begins to set in
On my chair, my second-hand existence is firmly stuck
Can't you hear all the blasts of disquiet in my heart?
Feelings sadistically extracted,
systematically suffocated in each other's identity
I'm a hostage of my very own emotional minefield
My pillow now dreams instead of me
All walls are in denial, all door knobs put me on trial
Hit by a ceiling conspiracy, dreams keep getting harsher
I'm not being me, so don't take it hard
Keep counting inanimate objects, bugs, and falling stars
And the bed will laugh, and the pots will huff, and the kettles will puff
The clock on the wall already screams enough
There's too much nothing,
though my mind will exhaust every brain cell
coping with
you
