Dirty Room

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Song Lyrics  |  House: Booksie Classic
For Raisedbychimp's challenge. I kind of enjoyed writing this, it was fun. Anyway, feedback is highly appreciated! Enjoy!

Submitted: October 22, 2009

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Submitted: October 22, 2009

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Dirty Room

Yeah! Look around at my filthy ground,
What do you see that frightens you?
That soulless doll with abysmal eyes and searching,
Your lies with no discretion
And a brown smog with greenish fury,
A distant scream with blood dripping, oh,
Are you scared to come in?

Yeah! Look around at my filthy ground,
When can you smell it?
That stench of morbid laughs and haunting places
How about that dead ol’ fish sitting on my cupboard
Drawer; he looks lonely, he looks friendly,
Let’s give him a color to draw with, he looks bored

Yeah! Look around at my filthy ground,
This dirty room and empathic hell
Leaps abound in sauntered motion,
Gremlins alive ringing frantic bells,
In rapid motion, get the notion, I don’t want you here

Yeah! Look around at my filthy ground,
Yeah! Look around at my filthy ground,
What do you see that frightens you?
The fact I’m dead or that imaginary phantom,
Oh, you were led the wrong way, yeah,
Who led you the ghastly way?

Yeah! Look around at my filthy ground,
Yeah! Look around at my filthy ground,
Yeah! Look around at my filthy ground,
What do you see that is terrifying?
The fact my glass eyes has a pulse, or
A vapid sense of dissolving dust
The wrapped around girl laying in my coffin,
Or the fact I’m simply mad

Yeah! Look around at my filthy ground,
What do you see that frightens you?
That soulless doll with abysmal eyes and searching,
Your lies with no discretion
Ghosts who chant some ancient dirges about
Past flirts and hopeful leeches, oh, no.
Oh, no.
Yeah! Look around at my filthy ground,
This dirty room and empathic hell
Leaps abound in sauntered motion,
Gremlins alive ringing frantic bells,
In rapid motion, get the notion, I don’t want you here
And a brown smog with greenish fury,
A distant scream with blood dripping, oh,
Furniture made of bones and people hanging out of telephones,
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
Are you scared to come in?
Are you scared to come in?
Are you scared to come in?
Are you scared to come in my dirty room?

Are you horrified to gouge my eye,
Or drink my honey with mud in it?
Or was it those damned ol’ pixies with some
Hellish screech, screech
Screeching at you to scrape my fingernails with
A rusty blade until I cry for mercy,
No way,
Don’t give me that sort of sympathy
And free getaway
I want to live it up, in this dirty room


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