what is that sound that loops and cracks,
coming from the bottom of my bed?
maybe it tics or maybe it tacs
or maybe it's all in my head.
what feeling is this that's just so cruel —
the loathed confession I've never read —
the dread of being another fool,
'cause maybe it's all in my head.
what thoughts remain when my mind clears
and the necrophagous ghosts take me for dead?
naught but a plain ol' jar of tears
that pours only inside my head.
what sorcery is this that curses my heart
and turns it into pitch black from red?
may it be an evil seed from the start,
may it grow large inside my head.
what is that dark desire and fiery rage
that freezes me like a spider's thread?
it's my own torturing cage —
oh! the thoughts inside my head...
what are these thoughts inside my head,
what business have they in there?
where else did they spread?
they're killing me... and I'm aware!