This House is A Circus

This house is a circus, berserk as fuckWe tend to see that as a perk, though, lookwhat it's done to your friendsTheir memories are pretendand the last thing that they want is for the feeling to end

There's a room full of trouble and there's lovers to be had, thoseones who make sinners out of such lover-ly ladsScaling the corridors for maidens in the maze-in'And the anomaly is slippin' to familiar ways

And we'reForever unfulfilledAnd can't think whyLike a search for murder cluesIn dead men's eyesForever unfulfilledAnd can't think whyLike a search for murder cluesIn dead men's eyes

The more you open your mouth the more you're forcing performanceAnd all the attention is leading me to feel important (maybe I'm not just completely obnoxious)Now that we're here, we may as well go too far

Wriggling around in it so that you won't forgetThere's certainly some venom in the looks that you collectAimlessly gazing at the faces in the queueAnd we're struggling with notion that it's life not film

This house is a circus, berserk as fuck (we're)We tend to see that as a perk, though, look (forever unfulfilled)what it's done to your friends (and can't think why)Their memories are pretend (like a search for murder clues)and the last thing that they want is for the feeling to end