I was just a child in the drama of the big bad world,
sorry silhouette in the smoke as it curled,
Existing on the edge of some great idea,
Trying to find my way but the way wasn’t clear.

I was wearing my thoughts like a new tattoo,
Acting like a leper and thinking of you
Because the rage withered in me when you took me in,
I’d [bad word] against Love without wanting to win.

I’ve been [bad word] all the crawling things
Creeping around the hole
And now they’re only creeping below.

I was swallowed by the spectre of a long slain spite
That gnawed upon my nerves with a savage appetite,
It stripped away the [bad word] of our pretty pretense,
You know we never should’ve had the right
To so much innocence.
 [bad word] all the crawling things
Creeping around the hole
Now they’re only creeping below.

Everybody’s acting like they’re born again,
Like I’m the very last of a pagan strain.
So I’ve been digging in the dirt
For something decent to say,
Trying to think about “the now”
While trapped in the everyday.
 [bad word] all the crawling things
Creeping around the hole
Now they’re only creeping below.

I want to know who
Would want me to feel this cheap
I want to know why
The road stretching out is so steep
I want to know what
Could cause this wretched malaise
I want to know where
Your God goes on His holidays.
 [bad word] all the crawling things
Creeping around the hole
Now they’re only creeping below.

And like a hound full of fleas
Sinking down in the sea,
I’m drowning in all this Love
And I hope you drown with me.

These nightmares don’t cause me no grief,
I don’t wish away visions
That make real life a relief.
Though I’m certain this circus must end,
Don’t you dare tell me when.

You wanted a rose
But I gave you a thistle,
Every day I shave close
But you still make me bristle,
If you need anything
Just give a little whistle,
You know how to whistle don’t you?

So we’re popping the tics
And we’re stoning the crows,
We’re down in the Styx
And it’s your turn to row,
We’re [bad word] the crawling things
Creeping below.
Now we’re creeping below.

These nightmares don’t cause me no grief,
I don’t wish away visions
That make real life a relief.
Though I’m certain this circus must end,
Don’t you dare tell me when.