Haunt / Bed
I'm sorry that your dad's deadI hope you amend itI think I've lost a lot of my friendsThrough belief that I'm an instrument
Well fuck me if you must thenTreat me like an old friendI can't exist within my own headSo I insist on haunting your bed
If you could only hear what I saidYou'd see
I'm not scaredI'm not scaredI'm not scaredI'm not scaredI'm not scaredI'm not scared
Spin car round push your head down down downSmashing to the ground with youThere's been a piece of glass found and a terrible sound, soundWhat if what they're saying is true?Oh I prefer it in your bed; television set
I'm not scaredI'm not scaredI'm not scaredI'm not scaredI'm not scaredI'm not scared