Let the Madness in
You spend your time admiring wilted flowers
As they slowly die, on your windowsill
You stare at the clock on the wall for hours
Time don't pass by, I guess it never will
At night you lie there staring at the ceiling
And every night,You cry yourself to sleep
You pray in vane for the safety of your soul
You don't realise, it aint yours to keep
Your heart it pounds like you're riding on a frieght train
The screams grow loud inside your head
Your heart it pounds like you're riding on a frieght train
The screams grow loud inside your head
Dont you think it's time to let the madness in
Shut the real world out, and let the fun begin
Written and Copyright
Arend Thibodeau
and
Thomas Heath