They come and talk to me,
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When I am all alone,
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They always remind me of,
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All the things that I've done wrong,
|
|
It's scary, disturbing, but somehow I'm not sorry,
|
They only thing that's even real,
|
Is the feeling that I don't feel.
|
|
It's all the same, but they're so different,
|
Bury the evidence, of my darkest sercets.
|
|
I hear them, they're calling,
|
The skeletons in my closet.
|
|
It's taking parts of me, into the unknown,
|
It's like a void inside of me,
|
That goes on and on and on.
|
|
It's scary, disturbing, but somehow I'm not sorry,
|
They only thing that's even real,
|
Is the feeling that I don't feel.
|
|
It's all the same, but they're so different,
|
Bury the evidence, of my darkest sercets.
|
|
I hear them, they're calling,
|
The skeletons in my closet.
|
|
Now I just can't pretend to forget,
|
These voices in my head,
|
And they just won't stop screaming.
|
|
It's all the same, but they're so different,
|
Bury the evidence, of my darkest sercets.
|
|
I hear them, they're calling,
|
The skeletons in my closet.
|
|
-----------------
|
Skeletons A.D.
|
| Wednesday 13 |
