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Theirs a little child,
runnin round my house,
He will never leave,
will never leave,

The dark is where i lay,
where i play,
where ill stay,
where ill be when im,
away,

Theirs an old man talking in toungs,
with his fists raised up,
most likely to ******** up,

Morning sun covers my eyes,
hopefully the lies,
wont show,
hopefully wont,

The dark is where i lay,
where i play,
where ill stay,
where ill be when im,
away,

Fog rises from underneath the house,
fumigating all the vibes,
no one here is alive,
almost everyone here is denied,

Theirs a man with a head,
made of marble glass,
who lives in the house,
saying,
anything you want,
it can be done,
it can be done...

Metaphores,
and prophets words,
people going though walls and doors,
its all the same to me,
lets go away you an i,
live toghether alone..
The dark is where i lay,

where i play,
where ill stay,
where ill be when im,
away,