Four walls and a ceiling. The beige paint is peeling
Hidden from the sun
And crusted, wasted DNA remains of the events that day
All f*cked away and led astray as the days blur into one
There's a reassuring feeling when the pale skin is peeling
Life has lost its fun
The ultimatum that looms over his head becomes more real through every night
"What holds me back? A simple choice. And I can make it as I please."
Peer through the blinds
The moon looks down in shame
The house is silent
It's the calm before the storm
The weight of this great nothing
Has atrophied the knees
No wonder why they crack up
When you're your own deadweight
Cold metal in the mouth
A blank canvas for a wall
A head as a paint brush
Just waiting on that call
I have no mouth and I must scream
I have no mouth and I must scream
I have no mouth and I must scream
I have no mouth and I must scream