Chiodos - Is it progression if a cannibal uses a fork?
Listen up sweetie
We all know that you're a beautiful girl
In this horrible world
In this suggestion of horror
The portraits on the walls
Look at their eyes, they always seem to follow
Look at their eyes, they always seem to follow me!
Out of tune this tale of terror
The solemn tolling of the funeral bells
I want to know what's going on
In that pretty little head of yours
Where everyday's a bone palace ballet
Biting the flesh from your finger
You know, I just can't help myself
I wish to believe, but belief is a graveyard
May this light never see morning
As finally one will not
Maybe you're the one that's overrated
Shriek and scream
Much too horrified to speak Out of tune this tale of terror
The solemn tolling of the funeral bells
I want to know what's going on
In that pretty little head of yours
Where everyday's a bone palace ballet
(Flowers of red, begin to bloom
On the white sheets in her room
Our lifeless bodies lying there rotting
For all of time, and eternity)
This morning I woke up, I rubbed my eyes
And I took a quick glance around the room
And saw what happened here last night
There was blood on the walls
And the sheets smelled like sweat and sex
We have narrowed it down to a butcher knife
And the mockingbird with the blood
Out of tune this tale of terror
The solemn tolling of the funeral bells
I want to know what's going on
In that pretty little head of yours
Where everyday's a bone palace ballet
We all know that you're a beautiful girl
In this horrible world
In this suggestion of horror
The portraits on the walls
Look at their eyes, they always seem to follow
Look at their eyes, they always seem to follow me!
Out of tune this tale of terror
The solemn tolling of the funeral bells
I want to know what's going on
In that pretty little head of yours
Where everyday's a bone palace ballet
Biting the flesh from your finger
You know, I just can't help myself
I wish to believe, but belief is a graveyard
May this light never see morning
As finally one will not
Maybe you're the one that's overrated
Shriek and scream
Much too horrified to speak Out of tune this tale of terror
The solemn tolling of the funeral bells
I want to know what's going on
In that pretty little head of yours
Where everyday's a bone palace ballet
(Flowers of red, begin to bloom
On the white sheets in her room
Our lifeless bodies lying there rotting
For all of time, and eternity)
This morning I woke up, I rubbed my eyes
And I took a quick glance around the room
And saw what happened here last night
There was blood on the walls
And the sheets smelled like sweat and sex
We have narrowed it down to a butcher knife
And the mockingbird with the blood
Out of tune this tale of terror
The solemn tolling of the funeral bells
I want to know what's going on
In that pretty little head of yours
Where everyday's a bone palace ballet
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