Head In The Sand

I guess you bit off a lit-tle more than you could chew. So you choked, sit-ting still in the wai-ting room. It's a shame that the hos-pi-tal could-n't fix some-thing like that. A lack of cour-age, a fa-ther gives his son to the past. I guess you took a lit-tle more than your ten-ta-cles could hold. So you sunk, I pinned you down on the o-cean floor. But you es-caped, you let the cur-rent take you a-way. The sand is the past, you took one last look and bur-ied us. Am I the on-ly one or am I just one of ma-ny? Because I need to know just how far you spread this suf-fer-ing. Bu-ry your head, bu-ry your head just like the chi-ld that you are, just like the chi-ld that you've al-ways been. But I'm sure your swo-llen chest will find a way to boast of all the wrong you've done. And when you sung to her in Spa-nish, what were you rea-lly say-ing? Because I don't think in En-glish it would be as a-ppea-ling. Did you tell her of the ma-gic trick you had been prac-ti-cing? The one where you dis-ap-pear, because you dis-app-eared. Am I the on-ly one or am I just one of ma-ny? Because I need to know just how far you spread this suf-fer-ing. Bu-ry your head, bu-ry your head just like the chi-ld that you are, just like the chi-ld that you've al-ways been. But I'm sure your swo-llen chest will find a way to boast of all the wrong you've done. You are the de-vil that hides be-hind the cur-tains, pul-ling all these strings. You are the ma-ker, I am the pup-pet. You are the pis-tol, I am the brain. I am the cap-tive you tor-ment in-dir-ect-ly. But dir-ec-tion is not the key. When you're the pro-duct of a co-ward's mis-take. I guess you bit off a lit-tle more than you could chew. So you choked. It's hard to swa-llow a mis-take you can't un-do. Am I the on-ly one or am I just one of ma-ny? Because I need to know just how far you spread this suf-fer-ing. Bu-ry your head, bu-ry your head just like the chi-ld that you are, just like the chi-ld that you've al-ways been. But I'm sure your swo-llen chest will find a way to boast of all the wrong you've done. Am I the on-ly one or am I just one of ma-ny? Because I need to know just how far you spread this suf-fer-ing. Bu-ry your head, bu-ry your head just like the chi-ld that you are, just like the chi-ld that you've al-ways been. But I'm sure your swo-llen chest will find a way to boast of all the wrong you've done.