Easter Sunday and she's dressed in black
Pez machine in hand, riding a BMX
Running barefoot through the graveyard, drawing pentagrams on tombstones
Her bloodbath visions are for him, not me

And I'm just living in your house
Sleeping in your bed
It was a nice dream, but it was a naive fucking fantasy
Two thousand freaks stabbed into my back
Well there are certain words I won't ever believe again
Is that all it means to you? A little push and a little screw?
Smoke it down to the last match, there's nothing here worth left to say

And I'm just living in your house
Sleeping in your bed
It was a nice dream, but it was a naive fucking fantasy
I'm just living in your house
Sleeping in your bed
It was a nice dream, but it was a naive fucking fantasy

Dear succubus, I miss you more than the rest
But there's a little bit less divide each time I look back
In the eve's of your attic, I know how to haunt
Shallow graves for all dead rats, I like the dark clouds the best

And I'm just living in your house
Just sleeping in your bed
It was a nice dream, but it was a naive fucking fantasy
I'm just living in your house
Just sleeping in your bed
It was a nice dream, but it was a naive fucking fantasy

Shallow graves for all dead rats, I like the dark clouds the best
Shallow graves for all dead rats, I like the dark clouds the best
Shallow graves for all dead rats, I like the dark clouds the best
Shallow graves for all dead rats, I like the dark clouds the best

Shallow graves for all dead rats, I like the dark clouds the best
Shallow graves for all dead rats, I like the dark clouds the best
Shallow graves, dead rats
Shallow graves, dead rats
Shallow graves, dead rats
I like the dark clouds the best

Copyright: ROUGH TRADE PUBLISHING, Wixen Music Publishing
Writer(s): Adam David Willard, Inge Rolf Johansson, James Robert Bowman, Thomas James Gabel