I imagine I walk a lonely street at night.
In the heart of a ancient city.
With close little houses and candles burning.
I believe that someone watches me from a tiny little window
Drapes pulled back.
Wondering who I am, what I'm doing out here, where I am going in the snow.
Ah but alas it's just a coat rack.
No one really cares.
I haven't been noticed at all.
And if they had..
Well they would only be jealous that I was out and they were in.

You've no idea what these hands will do
Once you fall fast asleep.
In the dark they'll slowly feel around,
For with your soul to keep.
Until you fade into another realm,
Breaths become quite deep,
Then with (only dreamed of) precision,
Around your throat they'll creep,
These nails will find their throbbing foe,
Then your blood will start to seep.
For you've sown nothing but a nightmare, baby!
And that's exactly what you'll reap!

You say that you know my scent so well,
Even blinded, that you could discern.
How strange that fragrance is familiar,
To a heart that you'd rather not learn.
Never noticed all the vivid scars,
Which have all been placed within your view.
Nor seen me wince in your careless hands,
When you try to touch them like you do.
And who am I to ask my owner,
(Who even blind, would know me by scent,)
"Sir, do you know where I am right now?"
"Or even how long ago I went?"