Cold stares in the night, tears roll down
Another sad clown sittin in the room
Eyes rain tears but do you really love me
Silent and solemn, Smeagol to gollum
Evil done got him
Doctors say we believe its a problem
Possessed by a demon, they wont leave it inside him
They gon leave him on Sunday
In a one man confessional with a high fever
Dry heaving and hollerin
Check the lock, bolt the door
Chop the cord on the boat, float to shore
Aint no leavin the island
Devil whistles in his ear, out of tune
On an empty ass bed, cant remember how to spoon
Cant forget how the spoon
Was the bowl for the soup for his arm
When his arm had a cold
Now the cold got his feet
Tied up in the sheets, sweat drips from his cheeks
Hes gonna die in hospital clothes
Bed, bed I rest in
Not my own
These cover make me itch
Hurt my head, head I question
Not my own
These covers make me sick