i feel trapped here i need repair take this poison away touch me and absorb it am i paranoid crowds full of androids do they all communicate whispers i can not decipher they cause me pain but all my wounds are self-inflicted this is a strain picking at my seams scissors cut thread and suddenly i'm in pieces all the telephones ring i know they're talking about me i can't wait for the spring when all the flowers grow tall enough to hide me i can't think but i think they're after me i've seen them all somewhere someplace their faces maybe in a dream i catch them in shiny surfaces showing devil horns reflecting glints of evil all the eyes are on