Walls Have Eyes

My head is full
Of things to say
I don’t know why
I feel this way
They don’t exist, when you don’t see them
They are not real, when you don’t feel them
The walls have eyes
The trees come down
Emerging faces
At night they frown
The house of doom
The smell of old
Dark shaded floors
My blood runs cold
They don’t exist…
«They don’t exist…»
…when you don’t see them
«…when you don’t see them»
They are not real…
«They are not real…»
…when you don’t feel them
«…when you don’t feel them»
The walls have eyes
The trees come down
The walls have eyes
The trees come down