Twisted little daydreams, memories with pain

Locking me behind the closet door


I will be a good boy, promise, I won't run


Sit quite in my room, playing with my toy gun

Now I'm older but the memories still eat me like disease


Alone in the darkness, watching you on my TV


Why did God make you so famous, when he only spit on me?




I want to bathe in your light


I want to be on the news

If I take your life, it's nothing personal


Just a boy and his toy gun dying for attention




Sitting on the steps, the sun is sinking low


The world gets very quiet as the street lamps start to glow


I step out and I raise my gun, time just seems to slow

For a moment, I can see myself trapped in your reflection


I'm angry and I'm lonely and I'm dying for attention




I want to bathe in your light


I want to be on the news


If I take your life, it's nothing personal

Just a boy and his toy gun dying for attention





Dying for attention

Mama