Lying on the couch With my head on the arm There is really nothing wrong Nothing wrong all is warm As the tv hums I grow weak and curled up There is always something more Something i havent done Heres that voice Travels up the stairs A deafening noise Im tight as a drum Wish i were as numb In that drafty room Floor of stone Sharp and cold My dad proudly at his desk Me deep under duress In that drafty room fingers arched as they get There is always something more Someone getting upset Heres that voice Travels up the stairs A defeaning noise Im tight as a drum Wish i were as dumb And oh, that scream Travels down the hall and into my bloodstream Im tired of this one Wish I were all done now
drafty, travel, stair, wish, drum