Hung in your room, swaying, hoping only that
you'll see.

All by myself, I'm alone in such poor company.

The deeper I think, the deeper I seem to sink,

I can't stop the insects that are feeding,

pull the needles from beneath my skin.

I broke myself, shattered, tied a bow around
every piece.

You'll lovely the eyes.

Have they always shown so vacantly?

The more I show the less you'll want to know.

I can't stop the insects that are feeding,

pull the needles from beneath my skin.

Now I'm on display.

I am becoming.

Hurt myself today.

It's all for you.

Do you like, do you like, what I'm becoming?

Cut myself today.

It's all for you.

I part the night, flashing, approaching as I
watch you flee.

Pushed through your panes.

Seems I've landed quite uncomfortably.

But as I pass through souls of broken glass

I can't stop the insects that are feeding.

Pull the needles from beneath my skin.

Please don't ask me just what I think, trust me,

you don't want to know.

Please don't ask me to open up, trust me, trust
me,

'cause I can't.