B. Dolan - Kitchen Sink lyrics

Moving photos of ghosts Projected against the chemical smoke It closes all around me A taste bitter as paint thinner Switch the sound off, breathe heavily They haven't found me-- Slouched over my desk With my head pressing the keys or Sitting up in bed, scene reflected by the screen Blood pounding in my temple Remote controlled by the feed Fingers slip between the blinds This is what I see outside: Vampires. pedophiles. secret police Threat levels elevated for weeks Feel my blood pressure peak Before I snap the blinds shut Heart beating in the darkness Eating from the box Half-conscious, half-life Full of sad nights spent Re-running my favorite programs over again Light glowing on my skin My face shows no emotion I sink into the sofa like a city sinking into the ocean Is the kitchen in the house? Is the closet in the house? Is the bedroom in the house? Is the living room in the house? Alright then check me out: Lead paint peeling spreading stains in the ceiling Revealing rust, dust, roaches and rats They make a k**ing. The smell of d**h is filling What remains of the building 53 sq. feet makes my cypher Complete Whether drooling on my pillow Or laid out on my sheets I keep falling, the TV keeps me falling asleep The world is mine in my dreams I see myself selling myself to myself I feel like hell and cry for help til I'm held Until I'm safe in the arms of my home-body Shut in. Nobody knocks on my door no more Nobody comes in Though I'm sure my existance is a topic of discussion They must wonder what the f** will be left of the mess uncovered When they finally take a wrecking ball to my bedroom wall I will show them all Something Is the kitchen in the house? Is the closet in the house? Is the bedroom in the house? Is the living room in the house? I don't go out I just wander the halls Fingers run along the crumbling walls Sick and deformed like the dip in the floor The drip in the kitchen's on a mission To k** me off, I should've died in a crib fire And will before long. Smoke rising from the old wiring Ring the alarm Wish I could decorate the place with the smell of napalm Barricade to save face, never answer the phone Stay away from the shades, try to vanish in the smoke I no longer know If I'm the cancer or the host Can't manage to cope without damaging my throat Used to make plans to go but they cancelled my show Now I watch Channel Zero for a pattern in the snow From the clock to the mirror to the carpet full of holes Things have gone well beyond a job For pest control... Is the kitchen in the house? Is the closet in the house? Is the bedroom in the house? Is the living room in the house?