The collector knows your name.
Where you lock up at night.
Which habits you sustain,
When you've turned off the light.
He has a way, to let you know he knows.
Your innermost, your skeletons and ghosts.
When he comes you want to die,
And you try, and you try, and you fail, so you try.
The collector has a bag,
Where your secrets are kept,
It has your name on a tag,
You can't remember but you can't forget.
He has a way, to let you know he knows.
Your innermost, your skeletons and ghosts.
When he comes you want to die,
And you try, and you try, and you fail, so you try.