I think I'm rotting on the inside.
Way down deep inside my soul...
I've built this little coffin that I live in every day.
I peek out every day or so to see those ghosts at play.
I've got my knife right by my side.
I keep it warm, I hold the blade.
I want to keep watch, keep hold...
For when they come to take my soul away.
I've got this fear living inside me.
It keeps me crippled and cold.
Like a child I lie frozen.
I hope these arms won't reach out and take hold.
There's blood on my face it keeps me warm at night...
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