LYRIC FOR SALE

By BRIDGE OF ANGELS

There are things they try to keep from you
Things they don’t want you to know
Cold spectres at your garden gate
When inside you are all aglow.
Infrasound engulfs your senses
Conjuring a soon to be delivered fate
The rhythmic algorithms of your little world
Suffocated by an invisible deeper state.

*Chorus*

Tell me if am paranoid
And feeling things that just aren’t there
Tell me my house is still my castle
Without an invaded haunted lair.
Pinch me and convince that everything is well
That the strange noises in my head
Are not the sounds of Pavlov’s Bell.

In my bed I stare out of the window at strange lights
Flickering in the distance.
I contemplate this strange phenomena
The fragility of my existence.
Need to put affairs in order
Before it gets too late
The hands on my alarm clock spin exponentially
As if controlled by a deeper state.

*Chorus*

Tell me if am paranoid
And feeling things that just aren’t there
Tell me my house is still my castle
Without an invaded haunted lair.
Pinch me and convince that everything is well
That the strange noises in my head
Are not the sounds of Pavlov’s Bell.