Black Nostalgia

Black bugs crawling from cages and waiting behind the door
Whispering copies of colors and pages that burn in the dark
Lock the door up with silence and blood from my weary soul
Cut my eyes out and fill me with black from the night

Something's underneath my bed
Seeping up into my head
Something's underneath my bed
And it's turning black and red

Only black is poetic in light of my memory
Can't we skip to the sorrow and smother the fire in the air
Close my eyes and let go of the bugs that move up the walls
Hold this prison together and float through the dark

Something's underneath my bed
Seeping up into my head
Something's underneath my bed
And it's turning black and red

I'll be under the covers now don't open up the door
Black nostalgia will comfort my soul when we part