Get out of my head, telephone ears
I'm not even trying to call you
But you're answering every line
Don't believe in god, but you're giving me signs
There's little cities in frames plastered throughout every hall
No corner of this house makes me feel alone, when I talk to myself the sounds just bounce of the walls
Little people in my head are grinding gears, making worlds in the back of my eyes
Everything on the other side slurs my words because I visit myself so often I'm going blind
It's the only place to hide here
Are you going to push me around when I'm king?
Feed me grapes as I roll around in my golden wheelchair?
Come to ease my every whim at the ring of a bell?
Are you going to ****** me with your perfume and let me run my fingers through your hair?
Will you pick me up and teach me how to dance?
Kick the wheelchair from underneath me and take me out to see the stars?
Pluck some funny shrooms from that log and open up my mind?
I know one day I will die
And every part of me will be pulled apart until I am rot and bones or a pile of ashes on top of a will the size of a tome
But I hope that it is in someone's home
And not just my own
But how can I ever trust that you'll never prefer to be alone?