Horror With Eyeballs

The Dissociatives

Behind this gold picket fence lies a whole institute
Where wallpaper painters scrape and scarecrows swell waterlogged
Now I got dead time on my hands
For feeding my animals

All of this time on my hands
So far has gone to feeding my animals

On this dark kissed day the light shines through only you
Or is it because your silhouette is your frame like an empty window
Now I got cold time up my sleeve, I'm feeling destitute

All of this time on my hands
So far has gone to feeding my animals

I feel root vegetable! Am I dead?
Or buried alive? I sleep warm velvet wand
Buy the night, I'm selling the Sun, my skin feels
Silky smooth now I'm buried in mud

All of this time on my hands
So far has gone to feeding my animals
All of that time I was dead
Limbless in bed, sedated experiment na, na, na, na
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Momentos

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