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She lead me down the garden path and bled me dry, dry. |
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She did her make up in the reflection of my glassy, glazed eyes. |
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She buried me in the churchyard where she wed me long ago. |
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My father saw red and said "you couldn't even pronounce the poor boy's name!" |
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And whilst I'm turning in my grave and wasting away, |
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My name's still driving the girl insane. |
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All fifteen letters addressed to her, |
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As a reminder of what she'd done. |
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She checked in to the hospital in Denton, Texas. |
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She told them about my name, they said, |
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"We're sorry but there's nothing to remove this tattoo from your brain" |
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Now I'm the voice inside her head, |
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I'm in her bed, |
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I'm in the walls that she hides between. |
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All fifteen letters addressed to her, as a reminder. |
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And whilst I'm turning in my grave and wasting away, |
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My name's still driving the girl insane. |
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All fifteen letters addressed to her, |
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As a reminder of what she'd done. |
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The moon is on it's back tonight |
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The moon is on it's back tonight |
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Her breath is much colder now she is the older, not I. |
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The moon is on it's back tonight |
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The moon is on it's back tonight |
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My name will remain an unclimbable mountain in live. |
