Texty: Of Montreal. Skeletal Lamping (Dig). Death Is Not A Parallel Move.

All of my thoughts are from a foreign host
Now I feel just like a ghost
Now I feel just like a ghost
Now I feel just like a ghost
Now I feel just like a ghost

All of my thoughts are from a foreign host
Now I feel just like a ghost
Now I feel just like a ghost
Now I feel just like a ghost
Now I feel just like a ghost

All of my thoughts are from a foreign host
Now I feel just like a ghost
Now I feel just like a ghost
Now I feel just like a ghost
Now I feel just like a ghost

Don't be afraid, lille van of violence
I'm only poisoning you, not gonna stab you
Don't be afraid, lille van of my troubled mind
I'm just poisoning you a little with my gloom

This far too much like a noise
It happens to be not so nice
I must nod, I must shatter, I must diffuse
This fractured consciousness, this soft abuse

The identity I composed out of terror
Has become oppressive now
I must defy this dark assignment
I'm over it now, I'm so over it now

Don't be afraid, lille van of violence
I'm only poisoning you, not gonna shoot you
Don't be afraid, lille van of my troubled mind
I'm just poisoning you a little every day