The walls at home were growing mouldy. Things I was due to forget They started throwing strange things at me some of them wore only red
A man hanging on the ceeling and smoke hung in the air I was teased by some flashbacks and people coloured their hair
The sound of dancing getting soggy or else the floor getting wet The walls in there were growing mouldy. The thing I was due to forget
Things I was due to forget Things I was due to forget Things I was due to forget Things I was due to forget Things I was due to forget Things I was due to forget Things I was due to forget