Is It Progression If a Cannibal Uses a Fork?

Listen up, sweetie, we all know That you're a beautiful girl in this horrible world In this suggestion of horror, the portraits on the walls Look at their eyes, they always seem to follow Look at their eyes, they always seem to follow me Out of tune this tale of terror The solemn tolling of the funeral bells I want to know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours Where every day's a Bone Palace Ballet Biting the flesh from your finger You know I just can't help myself I wish to believe but belief is a graveyard May this light never see morning, as finally one will not Maybe you're the one that's overrated Shriek and scream, much too horrified to speak Out of tune this tale of terror The solemn tolling of the funeral bells I want to know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours Where every day's a Bone Palace Ballet Every day, [Incomprehensible] This morning I woke up, I rubbed my eyes And I took a quick glance around the room And saw what happened here last night There was blood on the walls And the sheets smelled like sweat and s*x We have narrowed it down to the butcher knife And the mockingbird with the blood Out of tune this tale of terror The solemn tolling of the funeral bells I want to know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours Where every day's a Bone Palace Ballet