Waiting for somebody to change
You could easily die waiting
if the black walls and stomach pains are real
I've got to be going

Shivering hands on the glass
is it the winter, or is it the past?
everybody's somebody's monster

I sketched you out in charcoal black
one night in the windmill
but the parts were disproportionate sizes
just keep them from showing

Shivering fists to the glass
is it the winter, or is it the past?
everybody's somebody's monster

You called from the land of ice
I was happy to hear your voice
I guess the peasants haven't destroyed you yet

Waiting for somebody to change
(you could easily die waiting)
you forgot you made them that way
(I've got to be going)

Shivering face to the glass
is it the winter, or is it the past
everybody's somebody's monster
everybody's somebody's monster
everybody's somebody's monster
(am I your monster?)