This morning I woke up, I rubbed my eyes
May this light never see morning, as finally one will not
Out of tune this tale of terror
And saw what happened here last night
And the mockingbird with the blood
The solemn tolling of the funeral bells
In this suggestion of horror, the portraits on the walls
There was blood on the walls
Biting the flesh from your finger
I want to know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours
Look at their eyes, they always seem to follow
You know I just can't help myself
And the sheets smelled like sweat and sex
The solemn tolling of the funeral bells
I want to know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours
Out of tune this tale of terror
Maybe you're the one that's overrated
Every day, [Incomprehensible]
Look at their eyes, they always seem to follow me
I wish to believe but belief is a graveyard
Where every day's a Bone Palace Ballet
Shriek and scream, much too horrified to speak
We have narrowed it down to the butcher knife
The solemn tolling of the funeral bells
Where every day's a Bone Palace Ballet
And I took a quick glance around the room
Out of tune this tale of terror
I want to know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours
