Lletres: The Devil Makes Three. Chained To The Couch.

Well it's hot like ouch and I'm chained to the couch
from my brain stirs bad ideas let out my mouth
Like a thousand words, circuits burst
Crowd screamin here comes the hearse
And I'm jumpin now, outta my chest as the crowds begin to scream
and the winos wade into the barrooms to drink away the dreams
and I can hear years worth of traffic outside on that dirty street
I can see the lights turn from red to black to blue to brown to green
And I've been starin for so long, my eyes begin to bleed
yes I've been starin for so long, my eyes begin to bleed

When I was a young one they told me I left my rights at the door
and as I grow older this becomes true more and more
now I'm just starin out that open door
I should be screamin but I ain't got no tears no more
I ain't got no tears ain't got no tears no more
I ain't got no tears ain't got no tears no more

Guess I lost a few things that were dear to me
like my arms and my legs and my body and my soul and my will to speak
now they just slidin fast towards that ocean floor beneath
trying to not be pulled under by waves and the weeds
rain on the roof fit together so click like a tailor made suit
it's like pull, aim, click, bang, soar, and shoot
and the rain and the wind they lick my skin till it's freezin smooth
they heal over years of a thousand bloody wounds
ah yes they heal over years of a thousand bloody wounds

When I was a young one they told me I left my rights at the door
and as I grow older this becomes true more and more
now I'm just starin out that open door
I should be screamin but i ain't got those tears no more
I ain't got those tears ain't got those tears no more
I ain't got those tears ain't got those tears no more