Sun hits a dead room Mind starts a slow bleed Ghosts pick the lock again Feed where I can't see The results of your MRI scans are in! Well, I don't know how to tell you this, but you don't have schizophrenia I want a quiet skull No creaks, no crawl But calm turns sour fast Cracks right through the wall Good days rot quick Paint peels to truth Hope sinks like wet rope Still tied to my youth Due to the constant use of sleeping pills mixed with gin of dubious quality You have acquired something we call: The demons of the skull I want a quiet skull No creaks, no crawl But calm turns sour fast Cracks right through the wall Silence sounds holy But it might be a tomb Better storms and breathing Than stillness with no room I want a quiet skull No creaks, no crawl But calm turns sour fast Cracks right through the wall I want a quiet skull No creaks, no crawl But calm turns sour fast Cracks right through the wall