There’s someone inside me that softly kills everyone around
They don’t know they’re dead to me cause intent never makes a sound
All along they found I strangled lovers who’ve learned from slower hands
With these eleven minutes I could teach you what I am

You’re sick, sick as all the
Secrets that you deny
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide
You’re sick, sick as all the
Secrets that you deny
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide

There’s an art in seclusion. Production in depression
if a stranger turns up missing, this song is my confession
Tell the tales of the trail of dead, lovers learn from slower hands
Losing self in myself, inner demons make demands

You’re sick, sick as all the
Secrets that you deny
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide
You’re sick, sick as all the
Secrets that you deny
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide

You’re suffocating me, so very hard to breathe
My mask is growing heavy but I’ve forgotten who’s beneath

You’re sick, sick as all the
Secrets that you deny
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide
You’re sick, sick as all the
Secrets that you deny
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide

(Christian/Milligan)

Behind the Song:
'I was in a darker place when I wrote this, had just finished a book by Paulo Coelho which distorted my view of love for a brief moment (the title is hidden in the song). I was withdrawing into myself, but I knew that my true nature couldn’t hide for long. Isolation only perpetuates and prolongs depression, trust me.' - Stephen Christian