and then for no reason at all, there's the cocked head of confusion   vommiting a stream of consciousness, a conversation with your house pet   discernable only in a state of mind trailing your instinct   perpetuated by failure and sleep deprived insanity      but then is it something we tell, something we've written down   foreign screams too loud to silence, too hard to ignore   set the house on fire      the understood "we" of it all, sharing his mind with satan   barking obscenities leading to desperate conclusions   don't stop at that light, those signs aren't meant for you   writing that list of regrets only leads to a single answer      but then is it something we tell, something we've written down   foreign screams too loud to silence, too hard to ignore   set the house on fire      tonight, it's raining flames   no one lived and now i'm free      the neighborhood gathered around making forked tounge accusations   and those memories, so unsettling, pushed their way back into vision      but then is it something we tell, something we've written down   foreign screams too loud to silence, too hard to ignore   set the house on fire