I wanna live in a crooked house
All bent to hell, flipped over, inside out
Four wayward walls
In a dim lit hallway
That's always calling
Softly asking me to open
Each and every door
With the creaking of the floorboards
Unsettles dusty scores
Where every haunting threshold across a lawn mowed
I wanna love with this crooked heart
All beat to hell, skipped over, charged with sparks
Four wayward chambers
Pumped full of danger
Well, I'll wager my fate for a glimpse of technical alone
Well, enough with all these grays
And shades of dead malaise
No, I'd rather they'd drawn out every cross space in this maze
I want to see straight with these crooked eyes
The truest blacks, the brilliant blinding whites
For every morning I wake in a muddy haze
Well, I make my case for a minor miracle
I might procure from out here on the bed
Where the waiting tips the final scales
Oh, beyond all reasonable compare
Where every single sense you've ever had
Is a momentary flair
