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The consequence of imagination's fear
The million "What if I"'s between your ears
The feelings of regret
And now I'm running to forget
But know, the consequence of imagination's fear

I met a man downtown the other day
With ruby eyes that took my life away
The moral always goes
Don't trust the wolf in woolen clothes
But know the consequence of imagination's fear

I hear from the witches
Fear sounds of the dead
The source of the itchеs
Lives under my bed

Thе antidote we look so hard to find
To purge yourself of fear, relax your mind
But heaven only knows
Where my mind leads, the feeling grows
It knows the consequence of imagination's fear

I hear from the witches
Fear sounds of the dead
The source of the itches
Lives under my bed

I hear from the witches
Fear sounds of the dead
The source of the itches
Lives under my bed

And the witches
They sing, they sing, yeah
And the whispers
They grow, they all grow
And the witches
They sing, they sing, yeah
And the whispers
They grow, they all grow
And the witches
They sing, they sing, yeah
And the whispers
They grow, they all grow
And the witches
They sing, they sing, yeah
And the whispers
They grow, they all grow

I hear from the witches
Fear sounds of the dead
The source of the itches
Lives under my bed

I hear from the witches
Fear sounds of the dead
The source of the itches
Lives under my bed

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