Trophy Scars. Darkness, Oh Hell. Trazodone. Zeneszám

I take my Trazodone and go to bed --
Wake up in the morning with holes in my head.
My friend's a doctor. He tells me I'm fine,
As long as I don't eat 'em all of the time.

There's a man in my dreams.
He's silhouetted by the dull, soft gleam.
He lights a smoke. He shows his teeth.
He tells me, "Son, I'm the devil you feed."

Here's the problem with the devil though, I guess: I just don't believe.
His eyes burn red, and emits a grin. He asks, "Son, will you follow me?"

Then the man's face starts to change.
All of a sudden he looks just like me.
Somehow I've seen this all before.
Exactly where, I'm not so sure.

Or is it 'when'? I couldn't say.
Time and space tend to disagree.
Then I wake from my sleep.
I floss the Trazodone from my teeth.

I take a shower and I comb my hair.
I trim my beard and I look in the mirror,
And I almost can't believe my eyes:
A mouth opened wide and paralyzed in fear.

Oh, look at the martyr!
He burned himself alive out of sheer cold terror.
Some claim it was murder.
He saw the devil in his bed with his lover.
You wanted a martyr.
You hate the bed you're sleeping in, and all it's horror.
Her motive was murder.
Well, I'm the ghost that's haunting you, forever and ever.

You're right, my heart, it was a desert.
You're right, your love was a drink.
I wouldn't take a Goddamn sip, so I could die, or go to sleep.
No, no, no!

So she burned me like coal!
The skin is like her, they don't ever let you go.
I love the worst kind of criminals:
The kind that eat your heart;
The kind that steal your soul!
The kind that steal your soul!

Oh, look at the martyr!
He burned himself alive out of sheer cold terror.
Some claim it was murder.
He saw the devil in his bed with his lover.
You wanted a martyr.
You hate the bed you're sleeping in with all it's horror.
Her motive was murder.
Well, I'm the ghost that's haunting you, forever and ever!

And laying there with the ghost in my mouth,
Andy tells me to spit her out.
Oh Lord, I want to spit you out.

And laying there with the ghost in my mouth,
Andy tells me to spit her out.
Oh Lord, I want to spit her out.

Everything that you said to me;
All the words that you said to me;
Everything that you said to me
Was make-believe, just make-believe.

Everything that you said to me;
And all the words that you said to me;
Everything that you said to me
Was make-believe, just make-believe.