A stormy night steals the candle light
And leaves the front door swinging open wide
He sings, hello
Hello to the rocky rocking chair,
The suit of armour in the corridor
Filled with pains of catastrophe
And antique eyes that seem to follow me (?)
These days you wear these clean white sheets,
Soaked to my soul
Sole tears soak the pillow case
Like its a victim of a rainy day
But tears won't wash away
The knotted clothes and the first mix tape
Or the mortar of a pair of knaves (Wrong, again)
We'll live for ever in the old cement
While it's subject's curse's permanent
Why do you wear these clean white sheets
Soaked to my soul
Wide green eyes
And round eye holes
It's like your my, my little haunting
It's like your my-y-y my little haunting
It's like your my, my little haunting
It's like your my-y-y my little haunting (Ahoooh)
And my skeleton, tumbles down the stairs
Through cobwebs and, over banisters
The spinning hands of a broken clock,
Just like my legs, running on the spot
Before I shoot off
These days you wear these clean white sheets
Soaked to my soul
Wide green eyes
And round eye holes
And in good time,
I'll exorcise
My ghost of you
That haunts my life
But till then your
My, my little haunting
And leaves the front door swinging open wide
He sings, hello
Hello to the rocky rocking chair,
The suit of armour in the corridor
Filled with pains of catastrophe
And antique eyes that seem to follow me (?)
These days you wear these clean white sheets,
Soaked to my soul
Sole tears soak the pillow case
Like its a victim of a rainy day
But tears won't wash away
The knotted clothes and the first mix tape
Or the mortar of a pair of knaves (Wrong, again)
We'll live for ever in the old cement
While it's subject's curse's permanent
Why do you wear these clean white sheets
Soaked to my soul
Wide green eyes
And round eye holes
It's like your my, my little haunting
It's like your my-y-y my little haunting
It's like your my, my little haunting
It's like your my-y-y my little haunting (Ahoooh)
And my skeleton, tumbles down the stairs
Through cobwebs and, over banisters
The spinning hands of a broken clock,
Just like my legs, running on the spot
Before I shoot off
These days you wear these clean white sheets
Soaked to my soul
Wide green eyes
And round eye holes
And in good time,
I'll exorcise
My ghost of you
That haunts my life
But till then your
My, my little haunting