He sits in your room, his tomb, with a fist full of tacks,
Preoccupied with his vengeance,
Cursing the dead that can't answer him back.
You know that he has no intentions
Of looking your way, unless it's to say
That he needs you to test his inventions.
Babe, come crawl out your window,
Use your hands and legs, it won't ruin you.
How can you say he will haunt you?
You can go back to him any time you want to.
He looks so truthful – is this how he feels? –
Trying to peel the moon and expose it,
With his businesslike anger and his bloodhounds that kneel,
If he needs a third eye, he just grows it,
He just needs you to talk or to hand him his chalk,
Or pick it up after he throws it.
Babe, please crawl out your window,
Oh, use your hands and legs, it won't ruin you.
How can you say he will haunt you?
You can go back to him any time you want to.
He look so righteous while your face is so changed
As you sit on the box you keep him in
While his genocide fools and his friends rearrange
Their religion of the little ten women
That backs up their views, but your face is so bruised.
Come on out, the dark is just beginning.
Babe, please come crawl out your window,
Oh, use your hands and legs, it won't ruin you.
How can you say he will haunt you?
Well, you can go back to him any time that you want to.
You got a lotta nerve to say you are my friend
If you won't come out your window.
Yes, come out your window!
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The recording get cut off here.