The Recluse

I wake alone, in a woman’s room I hardly know
I wake alone, pretend that I am finally home
The room is littered with her books and notebooks
I imagine what they say, like, «Shoo fly, don’t bother me»
And I can hardly get myself out of her bed
For fear of never lying in this bed again
Oh Christ, I’m not that desperate, am I?
Oh no, oh God — I am
How’d I end up here to begin with?
I don’t know
Why do I start what I can’t finish?
Oh, please, don’t barrage me
With the questions to all those ugly answers
My ego’s like my stomach
It keeps shitting what I feed it
But maybe I don’t want to finish anything anymore
Maybe I can wait in bed till she comes home
And whispers:
«You're in my web now
I’ve come to wrap you up tight
Till it’s time to bite down»
I wake alone, in a woman’s room I hardly know
I wake alone, pretend that I am finally home
Home, home
Home, home
Home, home
«You're in my web now
You’re in my web now
You’re in my web now»