She lead me down the garden path and bled me dry, dry.
She did her make up in the reflection of my glassy, glazed eyes.
She buried me in the churchyard where she wed me long ago.
My father saw red and said "you couldn't even pronounce the poor boy's name!"
And whilst I'm turning in my grave and wasting away,
My name's still driving the girl insane.
All fifteen letters addressed to her,
As a reminder of what she'd done.
She checked in to the hospital in Denton, Texas.
She told them about my name, they said,
"We're sorry but there's nothing to remove this tattoo from your brain"

Now I'm the voice inside her head,
I'm in her bed,
I'm in the walls that she hides between.
All fifteen letters addressed to her, as a reminder.
And whilst I'm turning in my grave and wasting away,
My name's still driving the girl insane.
All fifteen letters addressed to her,
As a reminder of what she'd done.

The moon is on it's back tonight
The moon is on it's back tonight
Her breath is much colder now she is the older, not I.
The moon is on it's back tonight
The moon is on it's back tonight
My name will remain an unclimbable mountain in live.