|
I'm lost in the woods, take me to my bed |
|
Scared of the devil, horns grow from his skull |
|
Hairy faces and pointed wings |
|
And a sharp nose, that knows right where I go |
|
Standing in front of a mirror, as if he's already eaten you |
|
But you don't know it yet, because he delays your thoughts |
|
And you will go to sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep. |
|
And when you wake up, you're only some bones |
|
And it hurts you so, you can't climb a tree |
|
Because he can't fly, no no you can't hide |
|
He takes the shape of them, oh yes |
|
And when you put your arms around it, the tree shakes |
|
And is the devil laughing, no you can't leave his grip |
|
And maybe run to a stream, but you need your sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep. |
|
Everything in the woods is such oak it's simple getting lost |
|
I shot a bird and it came to life, I shot a bird and it came to life |
|
I'm lost in the woods, take me to my bed |
|
Scared of the devil, horns grow from his skull |
|
Hairy faces and pointed wings |
|
And a sharp nose, that knows right where I go |
|
Standing in front of a mirror, as if he's already eaten you |
|
But you don't know it yet, because he delays your thoughts |
|
And you will go to sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep. |
