There's a hole in my pocket
And the memory of who I wanted to be fell through and into the cracks in-between the floorboards
I can't seem to retrieve the concept of who I once was,

It's getting colder outside, and my brick walls have been crumbling as of late
And the inside of this house isn't exactly beautifully picturesque

The soul I've stolen for show and tell isn't my own and he's much nicer
than the thief underneath

So please, do me a favor,

And leave