In step with the bellows of a strange kind of sound the clock keeps on ticking, but you won't turn around, you won't turn around. Inside of the belly of a strange kind of house, lies the stink of formaldehyde and warm cherry pie dripping down my thighs.
Around, around, around, they taunt me, they touch me. Waiting, waiting, waiting, ghosts in the corridor, ghosts in the corridor Wading, wading, wading through haunted riffs of past lives. Unfinished thoughts, unfinished wants...
It's hard to imagine all the tools that you brought to help with the surgery that's got me so distraught and opened up my heart, but they won't fix a thing, if you don't keep them clean. Stop drawing up the blue prints and hand them all to me. Step aside and see....
Around, around, around, they taunt me, they touch me. Waiting, waiting, waiting, ghosts in the corridor, ghosts in the corridor Wading, wading, wading through haunted riffs of past lives. Unfinished thoughts, unfinished wants... are free.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
