Listen up, sweetie

We all know that you're a beautiful girl

In this horrible world

And this suggestion of horror;

(in) The portraits of the walls

The look in their eyes, they always seem to follow

The look in their eyes, they always seem to follow me



Out of tune

This tale of terror

The slow tolling of the funeral bell

I want to know what's going on

In that pretty little head of yours

Where every day is a bone palace ballet!



Biting the flesh from your finger

You know I just can't help myself(help myself...)

I wish to believe

But belief is a graveyard

May this night never see morning

It's finally worth it now

Maybe you're the one that's overrated

Shriek and scream

Much too horrified to speak!



Go!(?)



Out of tune

This tale of terror

The slow tolling of the funeral bell

I want to know what's going on

In that pretty little head of yours

Where every day is a bone palace ballet!

Every Day!

Every Day!



This morning I woke up

I rubbed my eyes

And I took a quick glance around the room

And saw what happened here last night

There was blood on the walls

And sheets smelled like sweat and sex

We have narrowed it down

To the butcher knife and the mockingbird

With the blood



Out of tune

This tale of terror

The slow tolling of the funeral bell

I want to know what's going on

In that pretty little head of yours

Where every day is a bone palace ballet!