there's a place you've never been a place I've never shown and for the slightest moment I'm willing to show someone else It's a lightless house filled with plagued memories that I've learned to call home I take you down the rayless halls and as the pages start to bleed I start to fear that you'd turn your back just like the pages unwritten your eyes turn red dry as if you've had them open for days I start to regret showing you the paintings on the walls just when I start to feel numb I feel your fingers run down my hand linking them between mine and for the slightest moment I felt less afraid you've taken me to a place I've never been