Uh-oh, she's coming to the attic, plastic,
Go back to being plastic.
No one ever listens, this wallpaper glistens
One day they'll see what goes down in the kitchen.
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When we have guests, our outside shells harden and become plastic. We become nice and calm again, a stark contrast from what it usually is in the mad house I call home.
One day, they'll see what really happens when their backs are turned. One day, the police will realise that we're not a perfect little family at all. But, until that happens, We'll have to go from plastic perfect people, to the raging monsters that dwell inside of us.
It's like we live inside of a doll house. A girl controlling us and forcing us to be all perfect and happy.
YOU ARE READING
Doll House
RandomEveryone thinks that we're perfect... Please don't let them look through the curtains.
