The lights across the street are lit but mine is out
I can tell it's much darker than last night's route.
I hang onto the tree limbs and lead bones in the house.

The feeling is that I never wanna leave but the skeletons in the closet say otherwise.
Yelling and perfecting my next, new route.
I plead myself guilty as the man with a knife walks out the room.

The lights across the street are gone now, along with mine.
I could tell it's definitely darker than the other night out.
I hang onto the ashen leaves and grim tones in the shed.