There’s a skeleton hiding under your skin
A skinny, white beast that lurks deep within
It’s made of bones, but you’re made of meat
It’s getting hungry, it wants to eat
The bones hate the flesh that they’re trapped inside
They want to be seen, they don’t want to hide
So when you’re asleep in your bed at night
They’ll crawl out your mouth and give someone a fright
The next morning, you’ll be grabbed by the police
“Where were you last night? Did you know the deceased?”
You’ll say you’re innocent, you didn’t kill anyone
“It wasn’t me! It was my skeleton!”
