Seasons of dirt and dust
Creaky attic\'s, rotting core
I\'m a spider in the pond
I don\'t belong amongst the floods and rocks
I want my web, I want my head
I want my mattress back, no more lead
Fingers are numb and with heavy cracks
Licking rusted spoons to find old flavor
Picking and snipping old photos in the shoebox
I want my own comfort
I don\'t feel, I want my pleasure
I want my pillow, no more pressure
What is it your holding?
Is it a way out
Get me out of cell
I want the Bed back