Born in burial gowns, recessing slowly
You soon wish you couldn't see at all
Tortured in the mind, six voices alone
Futile gestures, emotionless groans

Everyone asks what's wrong but what's right
And a cute lie makes everything uptight
To kill your dream before it's considered
To live in silence, airless closet, no vision

It's easier to make love to a stranger
Than to ask a friend to call
Suspicion knows nothing
And is known for not much at all
Much at all

Too cold here
Ten years of bleeding inside
Always look for walls
To lean beside

Too cold here
Ten years of bleeding its eyes
Always look for shade
To cover your eyes

Self-pity yourself is so shallow
I'm so sick in mind and body, heart cold as stone
Whiskey mac aroma, peace of mind
Hello Mr Samson, you can clean my soul

Wake up sighing mass for the bleeding
Never share sadness, mine, no man prays painless
Coalescing, mine are hidden rooms
Cannot give anything, I never could

Prison, it's only four walls but sometimes
The mind is the smallest prison of all
Offering there upon offering
As a ball with a touch feels through its fall
Through its fall

Too cold here
Ten years of bleeding inside
Always look for walls
To lean beside

Too cold here
Ten years of bleeding its eyes
Always look for shade
To cover your eyes