I trapped in a story
That wasn\'t mine to tell:
You said you were
Born and raised in hell.
I saw your moves, how you talk –
I felt myself a stalker.
I go where you go –
I\'m a sleepwalker.
Does my night trips
Count as another life?
Why do you hold in
Your hand a kitchen knife?
You killed my dreams
And I woke up troubled.
My mind was foggy,
My soul was hollowed.