|
Where your eyes don't go a filthy scarecrow waves its broomstick arms |
|
And does a parody of each unconscious thing you do |
|
When you turn around to look it's gone behind you |
|
On its face it's wearin' your confused expression |
|
Where your eyes don't go |
|
Where your eyes don't go a part of you is hovering |
|
It's a nightmare that you'll never be discoverin' |
|
You're free to come and go, or talk like Kurtis Blow |
|
But there's a pair of eyes, in back of your head |
|
Every jumbled pile of person has a thinking part that wonders |
|
What the part that isn't thinkin', isn't thinkin' of |
|
Should you worry when the skullhead is in front of you |
|
Or is it worse because it's always waiting |
|
Where your eyes don't go |
|
Where your eyes don't go a part of you is hovering |
|
It's a nightmare that you'll never be discoverin' |
|
You're free to come and go, or talk like Kurtis Blow |
|
But there's a pair of eyes, in back of your head |
|
Where your eyes don't go a filthy scarecrow waves its broomstick arms |
|
And does a parody of each unconscious thing you do |
|
When you turn around to look it's gone behind you |
|
On its face it's wearin' your confused expression |
|
Where your eyes don't go |
