Little girl asked me what I want
And my neck snapped taut like a clairvoyant
Being ravished by the spirits
When you're alone you're not alone your mind is surreptitiously whispering in the moan
Of the ones who laughed, in a time that has long since passed
These nervous ones who speak in furtive glances
These nervous ones who abdicate the day and medicate their sighs
These nervous onеs who bury their pianos
Whoa, capiche? we'rе ghosts birthed from bleach and we're trembling in time
Little girl told me everything i want
Is not of this world and cannot be sought
I should be crawling on the ceilings
Its a shadow, its a spectre, it's a wraith of the space that i so ably chipped away with my spidery fantasies
Whoa, capiche? we're ghosts birthed in bleach, and we're trembling in time