Tekster: Dead Celebrity Status. Blood Music. If These Walls Could Talk.

[Whisper]
Back and forth, forth and back I keep pacing.
I stay the same while this world keeps changing.
I try to run but these walls got me caged in.
Is it real or just my imagination?

[Normal]
Back and forth, forth and back I keep pacing.
I stay the same while this world keeps changing.
I try to run but these walls got me caged in.
Is it real or just my imagination?

Sometimes I wonder if these walls know my deepest secrets,
from whom I love, to who I fall asleep with.
Can they see my sadness, my raging madness,
or that stack of porno magazines underneath my matress?
Can they hear my breathing, or my footsteps leaving?
Sneaking out my window ''cause I'm tired of my parents screaming.
Louder than Metallica playing with a symphony.
Louder than crowds in the eighties screaming for Tiffany.
I feel secluded, my thoughts feel polluted.
So I escape to music ''cause I think it's therapuetic, and,
this whole world can hate or love me, or think i'm ugly,
''cause unlike my friends these walls wont judge me.
These walls wont betray me, these walls are like my safety.
But sometimes I feel like these walls drive me crazy.
They enslave me or chase me by myself.
''cause if these walls see everything, why the fuck don't they help?

If these walls could talk they'd say,
that I was so damn lonely.
It feels like no one knows me.
These walls keep closing on me.
If these walls could talk they'd say,
that I was so damn lonely.
It feels like no one knows me.
These walls keep closing on me.

These walls are my leviathan, my cage, my lion's den.
I'm feeling trapped, strapped to this bed that I'm lying in.
I can't escape truth so I grab hold of my blanket,
counting the cracks on the ceiling for my own entertainment.
And this order, it feels like post mortem, shit,
I'd rather have my pumpkin smashed by Billy Corgan.
''cause these walls watch me fall asleep and wake up,
they've seen my first kiss, they've seen my parents break up.
They've seen how I like to make sure my door stays shut.

sometimes I like my privacy without it you'd see inside of me,
and fall to pieces like clothes with a bad seamstress.
These walls are my diary, my notepad, my Jesus.
A change of scenery is really all I need.
''cause these walls are closing in and it's hard for me to breathe.
It's hard for me to leave but not hard for me to fall.
I just don't wanna become another brick in the wall.

If these walls could talk they'd say,
that I was so damn lonely.
It feels like no one knows me
These walls keep closing on me.
If these walls could talk they'd say,
that I was so damn lonely.
It feels like no one knows me
These walls keep closing on me.

Back and forth, forth and back I keep pacing.
I stay the same while this world keeps changing.
I try to run but these walls got me caged in.
Is it real or just my imagination?
Back and forth, forth and back I keep pacing.
I stay the same while this world keeps changing.
I try to run but these walls got me caged in.
Is it real or just my imagination?

If these walls could talk they'd say,
that I was so damn lonely.
It feels like no one knows me.
These walls keep closing on me.
If these walls could talk they'd say,
that I was so damn lonely.
It feels like no one knows me.
These walls keep closing on me.
If these walls could talk they'd say,
that I was so damn lonely.
It feels like no one knows me.
These walls keep closing on me.
If these walls could talk they'd say,
that I was so damn lonely.
It feels like no one knows me.
These walls keep closing on me.