Who wants to hear a story?
Hanging in the great room
Just above the fire-board
Lives a breathing painting
That dare not be ignored
Pictured are three daughters
Just like the household's children
But these girls are un-sleeping
They're a demon's servants
They chatter in the dark
They whisper in the day
And if the art feels starved
They leave their picture frame
But all the family loved it
It fit their home perfect
The demon felt flattered
And practically worshiped
That was until the middle child grew
Her feelings quickly changed
Something felt askew
The painting made her sick
It seemed to meet her gaze
She'd dream about its eyes
And wake up in a haze
One night, before bedtime
She covered it with cloth
This made her feel better
But made the demon cross
Middle Child Video (MV)
Clit Splinter - Middle Child Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Who wants to hear a story?
Hanging in the great room
Just above the fire-board
Lives a breathing painting
That dare not be ignored
Pictured are three daughters
Just like the household's children
But these girls are un-sleeping
They're a demon's servants
They chatter in the dark
They whisper in the day
And if the art feels starved
They leave their picture frame
But all the family loved it
It fit their home perfect
The demon felt flattered
And practically worshiped
That was until the middle child grew
Her feelings quickly changed
Something felt askew
The painting made her sick
It seemed to meet her gaze
She'd dream about its eyes
And wake up in a haze
One night, before bedtime
She covered it with cloth
This made her feel better
But made the demon cross
Hanging in the great room
Just above the fire-board
Lives a breathing painting
That dare not be ignored
Pictured are three daughters
Just like the household's children
But these girls are un-sleeping
They're a demon's servants
They chatter in the dark
They whisper in the day
And if the art feels starved
They leave their picture frame
But all the family loved it
It fit their home perfect
The demon felt flattered
And practically worshiped
That was until the middle child grew
Her feelings quickly changed
Something felt askew
The painting made her sick
It seemed to meet her gaze
She'd dream about its eyes
And wake up in a haze
One night, before bedtime
She covered it with cloth
This made her feel better
But made the demon cross
Writer: Emma Armstrong
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid