| The door closes shut
|
| I hear a noise upstairs but I’m not sure what it was
|
| I creep towards the stairs
|
| A faint and quiet whisper makes its way into my ears
|
| Oh, who could it be?
|
| They beckon for an answer with a clear apology
|
| Do you hold the key?
|
| The ghost, it sounds familiar, even sounds a bit like me
|
| So young and confused, a life of abuse
|
| I’m the culprit, oh, I am the culprit
|
| You never believed in hope you can’t see
|
| I’m the culprit, oh, I am the culprit
|
| I run up the stairs
|
| I hear the voice repeat, «This is now your cross to bear»
|
| Th sound travels through
|
| An image of what could have been, it looks a lot lik you
|
| So young and confused, a life of abuse
|
| I’m the culprit, oh, I am the culprit
|
| You never believed in hope you can’t see
|
| I’m the culprit, oh, I am the culprit
|
| And I can’t be your spine anymore
|
| I can’t be your spine anymore
|
| Anymore
|
| Not enough hours of darkness to sleep off the guilt
|
| The room was all finished and painted your name on the quilt
|
| But no one will know it’s for you
|
| No one will know it’s for you
|
| So young and confused, a life of abuse
|
| You never believed in hope you can’t see
|
| So young and confused, a life of abuse
|
| I’m the culprit, oh, I am the culprit
|
| You never believed in hope you can’t see
|
| I’m the culprit, oh, I am the culprit
|
| And I can’t be your spine anymore
|
| Anymore |