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The forest scares the hell out of me. |
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There are ghosts in there that tell you ferocious things. |
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And old ladies with toads for pets |
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Who mumble incantations that make you scream. |
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And I miss the city, the buildings, |
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Where the brick is the only thing that's exposed. |
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And as long as you don't fall into the cracks in the road, |
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You'll make it home. |
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The trees here might be green |
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But their hearts are black as black can ever be. |
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And birds circle above you waiting for the night to fall, |
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So you can't see. |
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And I miss the city, the buildings, |
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Where the brick is the only thing that's exposed. |
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And as long as you don't fall into the cracks in the road, |
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You'll make it home. |
