As if the walls are closing in, I hear them talking of stones and sin.
The scheming four are taunting me, locked in a room of doors without a key.
Take these tainted eyes, you will see.
Take it back, Take it back. Open the door and let me in.
Why can’t you heal the phobia?
Take it back, Take it back, like hanging on a drawing pin.
Why can’t you feel the phobia?
Peering through a form so small, a woven tight rope, to rise and fall.
Under the sun, I bide my time. Trapped in a sick and twisted nursery rhyme.
Take this tainted eyes, you will see,
a sight so sore, it questions my beliefs.
Take it back, Take it back. Open the door and let me in.
Why can’t you heal the phobia?
Take it back, Take it back, like hanging on a drawing pin
Why can’t you feel the phobia?
It can be misleading.
This white noise your hearing.
The fear that is eating away.
Take it back, Take it back. Open the door and let me in.
Why can’t you heal the phobia?
Take it back, Take it back, like hanging on a drawing pin.
Why can’t you feel the phobia?

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