Swallow that lump inside of your throat
Open up the closet and push aside all the clothes
You believe, and never needed more to be said
To leave you scared of that little gap between the floor and your bed
So you jump, leaping over all of your options
And retreat right back to that bed we call a coffin
To sleep, never actually getting a wink
Due to all the little devils that dance around in your dreams
And attack you, pull you under the bed with their hands
And take away the chance of you ever making a stand
And if anything actually ever went as you planned
That you could retrace the steps that you ran
But only if it hits, if it speaks
You could fight it to the death in the streets
You'll grip those sheets in attempt to hide
And figure out that you've been running from the feeling of never leaving alive