| Can you tell me what you see?
|
| Are you sure what you believe?
|
| In the workshop of the mind,
|
| Oh, the horrid things you’ll find
|
| There… in the dark
|
| Hopeless castaway, herding her dismay
|
| Sheltered there but constricted
|
| Tell me what you see, and do you believe?
|
| Or are you still conflicted?
|
| It’s just a turn of the screw… just an illusion threatening you
|
| When all the madness overwhelms you,
|
| just sit and turn your screw
|
| Hands are closing in, when the lamplight’s dimmed
|
| Is he just an illusion?
|
| Specter in the night, that can rend your life,
|
| Steal your soul and twist your mind
|
| It’s just a turn of the screw… just an illusion threatening you
|
| When all the madness overwhelms you,
|
| just sit and turn your screw
|
| Turn the screw
|
| It’s just a turn of the screw… just an illusion threatening you
|
| When all the madness overwhelms you,
|
| just sit and turn your screw
|
| It’s just a turn, a tunr of the screw
|
| Can you tell me what you see?
|
| Are you sure what you believe?
|
| In the workshop of the mind,
|
| Oh, the horrid things you’ll find
|
| turn. |
| turn, turn the screw
|
| turn, turn, turn your screw |