Hey little boy, when I tried to call you you were still in bed
One of us destroyed the other like the dream I had
The room is white and the clock ticks, I see nothing but now I feel sick.
Got fifteen pictures taped to the wall I can't see you in any of them at all
Here is comes, that poison melody plays to me.
Will it enter our breeze and k** us while we sleep.
That kind of music can k** your mind, I see it coming an apocalyptic sign
I know my thinking is serpentine, One thousand d**h moons marching in a crooked line
Well one of us write and the other love
One of us shut up, while the other one talk.
That kind of music can k** your mind, I see it coming an apocalyptic sign