Black Sheep Boy, Pt4

Bleeding black sheep boy
Mirror in pieces
Turn the receiver
Trace the police station
Lying to my number
And number my reasons
For this paranoia and these accusations
Each night that the numbers paired off like lovers collided together, so I can't remember my name or my nation.
Bathe black sheep boy
Go back beyond the pasture
You cracked out my head
And in your battered mustang, in the back seat will be your bed.
Burning black sheep boy
Dark denim phantom
Face full of flames, ears full of cheers that have fandom
I'd slice off the horns the sprung right from those temples
I was chased from my bedroom
I was chased from my candles by fear of the numbers paired off like lovers
Colliding together so I can't remember my face or my station
Pacing black sheep boy
The floor just wont support you
You hover through the room
Get in your battered mustang, and the back seat will be your tomb

And I rode into Baltimore and I found a hotel room
Where I tried to escape you
But the phone line wouldn't go through
And inside the mirror well I saw you stand there staring out
I don't recognize your eyes, your mouth, or any other lines that come flying out
Nothing I've heard from you sounds sane or safe, words falling down from the ceiling where the mirror is stealing the light to reveal us both
The night that we're both peeling and the black pool of your shadow, you cracked out of my head
Go back beyond the pasture or I'll smash your mirror 'till you're dead.