You survived the day, but haven't slept in weeks,
in stumble into your room, pulling off your clothes.
You smile to the faces, but nobody knows.
Your mind is empty you're a walking dead,
you haven't slept in weeks because there's a monster underneath your bed.
It breaths in sink, knows what you think.
Creeks under the bed, you're on the brink.
You tell yourself its all in your head,
because you can't admit you sleep with the dead.
The light in the hallway above the sink,
you keep them on because you know it's there.
When you close your eyes it's breath is through your hair.
When you look away things are misplaced,
It's amazing you haven't had a heart-attack,
but it's coming soon because you're an insomniac.
It breaths in sink, knows what you think.
Creeks under the bed, you're on the brink.
You tell yourself its all in your head,
because you can't admit you sleep with the dead.
Pad the room, bar the door,
take the bed you don't want one anymore.
Wear the white because of things you've said,
about the monster living beneath your bed.
Now it's your only friend, the dying dead,
and it's no longer caged up under your bed!
It breaths in-sink, knows what you think.
It's in your head, it brings the dead.
All you kids, I don't know what you think,
but you should fear what lives under your bed.
