Murder

There's a bleeder in my kitchen,
And he's pouring on my floor.
There's a killer in my hallway,
And he's scratching at my door.
I think I might have heard some screaming;
I might have heard somebody cry.
Now I wonder am I dreaming,
Or is my mind telling me a lie?
Well I can't run any further,
And I can't hide anymore.
And I think there's been a murder,
Up on the ground floor.
There's a boa in my bathroom,
And he's coiling in my sink;
He wants my cats I think.
Paranoia in my house now, and I'm balanced on the brink.
Well I can't run any further,
And I can't hide anymore.
And I think there's been a murder,
Up on the ground floor.
I'm living in a basement flat, in a quiet part of town.
I bet you wonder where my head is at, when I'm imagining all these sounds.
I'd check it out but I'm glued to my chair;
I can't make it to the door.
I could be bugging, but I'd gladly swear:
I just heard a body hit the floor,
And I can't run any further.
I can't hide, I can't hide anymore,
And I think there's been a murder, up above me on the ground,
On the ground floor.