Word Thingys: Salome Strangelove
There’s an ache behind my shoulder; never felt that way before
I’ll get used to it I guess; things are that way more and more
And there’s a blind spot in the corner of my eye; I think it’s growing
The weeks flip by so fast; don’t show any sign of slowing
The Winters all seem colder; the Summers burn like wildfire
My room’s a fog of rye and absinthe; my conscience is a liar
Ain’t nobody else to blame for the skin I’ve lost or scars I gained
Used to tell myself was your fault, but that passion’s long since waned
Now the bones are in the walls and —
The bones are in the walls and —
The bones are in the walls and they are calling out my name
Oh, the bones are in the walls and —
The bones are in the walls and —
The bones are in the walls and there’s a soul they’ve got to claim
There’s a darkness I can’t light away; the shadows hold it deep
There’s a truth I never will confess; into to the grave I’ll keep
Might have been a time once when I might have let it go
When your smile cut right through me in the steam of afterglow
But now the bones are in the walls and —
The bones are in the walls and —
The bones are in the walls and they are calling out my name
Oh, the bones are in the walls and —
The bones are in the walls and —
The bones are in the walls and there’s a soul they’ve got to claim
I’m not saying you might have saved me
But maybe…maybe…
‘Cause the bones are in the walls and —
The bones are in the walls and —
The bones are in the walls and they are calling out my name
Oh, the bones are in the walls and —
The bones are in the walls and —
The bones are in the walls and there’s a soul they’ve got to claim