The Scar

I'd like to sneak around your house

When everyone's asleep

Tiptoe across the door-room mat

That used to welcome me

Then gently shut the door

To see a brand-new Christmas tree

And the silence pounds like a kettle drum

And a chill runs through me

But does she ever miss me?

I still hear her singing

Just like an orchestra, just like a painting

With velvet brushes and wooden framing

A familiar Monet that's worth renaming

The scar

I choked up the dirt, completely hurt

I ran straight through them all

Then pushed aside what's left of pride

And trembled through the hall

And there stands a door you'd seen before

When all you knew you was down

And your perfume breath brought peaceful death

On sleepy silver gowns

But does she ever miss me?

I still hear her singing

Just like an orchestra, just like a painting

With velvet brushes and wooden framing

A familiar Monet that's worth renaming

The scar

Yeah, to wake is such a dreaded thing

To sleep is such a hole

I eat without your company

I drink till I unfold

And now hear the end of everything

Just thrown onto the ground

But October fell and broke my shell

And all I knew was down