Questions

Nothing good ever happens here

So if you ever stare blankly into a mirror

Aren't you already art?

There's something about going insane

To not be in control

There's a rod, isn’t it mind-blowing?

The idea of mediocrity is revolting

Being special though is chaotic

Knock knock, are you and I sane?

They say a man was murdered here

But you already knew that, didn't you?

Are you here because you believe in ghosts?

Or should I believe in ghosts because you’re here?

Do you ever just scribble?

Are the walls enough to hold your thoughts?

Do we both exist at the same time?

If not, why is this man lying here?

If I ask you a question, do you also ask me a question?

If so, is the answer, the question?

Do you believe in equal rights?

If so, are we black and white?

Do you stop to catch your breath while running?

Honestly, I could use some water

The newspaper said the children were found,

In an old attic, abandoned house by the riverside,

Where you and I used to live

Do you hear my voice in your head?

If not, why do I hear yours?

I saw a crippled man walking by,

As I circled around him, waiting

I saw him holding a pocket knife,

But can he defend himself like you and me?

Momma, dadda is it going to be okay?

Is it going to be okay if we hurt you too?

There's a ticklish feeling inside my head, I feel like laughing,

But why doesn't anybody ever stop to listen?

Bible says sins are sins if you believe them to be,

If this is a sin, why am I still happy?

If we walk a little faster, there's some blinding bright

But of course, you know that you're a fucking flashlight

Do you also drag yourself through the tunnel?

It feels like a car just passed by overhead

I think it was a family, I could hear some songs

A little baby, I could hear her cry

Should we make her happy? Should we stop the man by her side?

One more baby, in our little house by the lake

The autopsy says there were blunt force wounds

Is this why we have a rock lying around?

Does your head also tick on seeing cross signs?

If yes, do you still do it?

Do you see how beautiful is the sunrise?

I think its blurry, day and night

Do you believe in their stories?

They think they're living

I think we're living,

I think we're killing the living

The newspaper says eighteen is the death count

Will we keep the other thirteen safes in our house?

Is it okay, what you make me do?

Honestly,

When they scream, I like it too.

Twinkle, twinkle I look up into the night sky

Questions you ask, questions I lie.