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Johnny is counting his fingers again He told me death was his only friend He's so meticulous yes he will send you Clear out of your head Johnny he lives in a tiny room Stacked to the rafters with doom and gloom Digging through piles of papers and things Looking for something obsessing his brain And no one can catch him he's on a run The next one could kill him, He's having fun And no one can catch him he's on a run Johnny he's talking in tongues again Scratching his red irritated skin So irreversibly around the bend he's clear out of his head Johnny he lives in a tiny room Stacked to the rafters with doom and gloom digging through piles of papers and things Looking for something obsessing his brain Now he sees a face no one else can see in the grain of an oaken door And it's speaking to him woodenly and it shakes him to the very core Out the door up the hill and down the primrose path Furies nipping at his heels in the wake of his aftermath From Letras Mania