Phobia

Strangely I hear a hundred voices.
They conquer my dreams at night.
My wooden door just won't swallow their sounds
It starts like a mystic whisper as if the howl
Is on the air and then it swells and rushes
And becomes a storm that spins truly
Around around around

It´s the cold breeze that makes me thinking
About what it was that it write away during
All those gloomy nights and days
I open my eyes so slowly tiyng the face
This ghost of mine but it just keeps on telling me your lies

Spin, spin truly
Around, around, around
And they tell me to sell my meat
I shall sell it. They tell me to sell my meat.
They tell me to sell my meat, they tell my to sell
My flesh like a butcher
They tell me to sell my meat,
Yeah
And they tell me to sell my meat
I shall sell it. They tell me to sell my meat