I can't speak and I can't breathe. And no words are comin' out of me. And I can't tell if I'm upside down. Or if I'm just goin' round and round. . I trap myself in idioms.
I walk alone inside these walls and it's not easy being me. Seems like every time I escape there's another following. Me, I'm running, now they're coming, I can feel them shooting me.