Print my face on the welcome mat,
Wipe your feet, twice, and take off your hat.
D'you come alone?
Then make yourself at home.

The vibe in here, its quite sickly,
Think before you speak, but speak quickly.
A perfect balance between tense and mellow.
And the *** has stained the walls a lurid yellow,
The site of which will make you mad,
But that's all we ever had.

Please don't stare at them for too long,
Or everything you do will begin to seem wrong.
And don't let the mirrors fool you, that's not a real smile.
But you can stay and rest here for a while.
A seemingly perfect, place to hide,
With plenty of holes to crawl in and die.
Mind the gap between the floor and the ceiling,
I cant shake this feeling,
This isn't my home.
Yeah,

I'd rather be alone.