[The Son:]
I have a box, I want to tell you about
It's this place in my head
Where I keep my secrets
Made from rotten wood
It holds stains
Of blood splattered all over
It describes my life, a gospel
And the chapter and verse
Preached to me

[The Mother:]
Some of us fools just not admit

[The Son:]
All of them committed horrors
To create themselves

[The Mother:]
Forgotten fears
That belong to the past

[The Son:]
If only they could have stayed there
And wither away

I try not to ever open the box
When I do, I'm forced to see
All those faces that look like me
Bursting out sounds no one can hear
They don't move right
They distort
Over the noises they create
Inside their minds

[The Mother:]
Some of us fools just not admit

[The Son:]
All of them committed horrors
To create themselves

[The Mother:]
Forgotten fears
That belong to the past

[The Son:]
If only they could have stayed there
And wither away

Their eyes widened in terror
Afraid of light and impulses
They are images of my past
Parts of my personality I killed
To become the person that I am today

[The Mother:]
Why would you hurt yourself
When it's so clear?

[The Son:]
The horrors will just disappear

[The Mother:]
Screaming and scraping
You're down on the floor

[The Son:]
Please stop, I can't take it anymore

[The Mother:]
Why would you hurt yourself
When it's so clear?

[The Son:]
The horrors just won't disappear

[The Mother:]
Screaming and scraping
You're down on the floor

[The Son:]
I'll close the door
In my little box

---

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