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Hung in your room, swaying, hoping only that you'll see. All by myself, I'm alone in such poor company. The deeper I think, the deeper I seem to sink, I can't stop the insects that are feeding, pull the needles from beneath my skin. I broke myself, shattered, tied a bow around every piece. You'll lovely the eyes. Have they always shown so vacantly? The more I show the less you'll want to know. I can't stop the insects that are feeding, pull the needles from beneath my skin. Now I'm on display. I am becoming. Hurt myself today. It's all for you. Do you like, do you like, what I'm becoming? Cut myself today. It's all for you. I part the night, flashing, approaching as I watch you flee. Pushed through your panes. Seems I've landed quite uncomfortably. But as I pass through souls of broken glass I can't stop the insects that are feeding. Pull the needles from beneath my skin. Please don't ask me just what I think, trust me, you don't want to know. Please don't ask me to open up, trust me, trust me, 'cause I can't.
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