Hung in your room, swaying, hoping only that you'll see.
All by myself, I'm alone in such poor company.
The deeper I think, the deeper I seem to sink, I can't stop the

insects that are feeding,
pull the needles from beneath my skin. I broke myself,
shattered, tied a bow around every piece.

You'll love the eyes. Have they always shown so vacantly? The
more I show the less you'll want to know.
I can't stop the insects that are feeding, pull the needles from

beneath my skin.
Now I'm on display. I am becoming. Hurt myself today. It's all
for you.

Do you like what I'm becoming? Cut myself today. It's all for
you.
I part the night, flashing, approaching as I watch you flee.

Pushed through your panes. Seems I've landed quite
uncomfortably.
But as I pass through souls of broken glass I can't stop the

insects that are feeding.
Pull the needles from beneath my skin.