You know who
the monster really is.
Cause you've seen him --
many times before.
He's got your
ember in his eyes.
He's scratching on your door.

He's using
your very own lies.
Knife marks
in your floor.
His clothes
are your same size.
Holes and cracks in your disguse.

You try Whiskey,
Beer n' Gin.
And something
inside of you dies.
But as a twisted
little surprise --
the beast is even more alive.

Your speech
was the first thing to fade.
All your thoughts collide,
within your mirage masqurade.
You're at the end of the road,
a thrown handgranade
ready to explode.

Barely breathing,
you walk outside.
Waist deep
in blazing snow.
In the field you see a scarecrow,
and remember a tale
from long ago.

You click
your heels together,
sayin':
"There's no place like home."
Well i guess
it was worth a try,
for not do die alone.