I'm a cryptid
Skulking through your kitchen
And I'm pale-skinned
Nailed-coffin complexioned
I want to feel the magic in me
I want to believe
That I can bring you back because
Because narrative death drained me
It drains the magic away
Drains me
Sleep deprived in witching-time
Drains me
It drains the magic away
Drains all the magic away
The common cold is comical
Easily treated with a dose of turmoil
The pen and page are pixelating
Eyes are both becoming dilated
A habit formed is a habit worn
Holy-light-judgement forlorn
The pen and page have pixelated
My eyes are dilated 'cause
Narrative death drained me
It drains the magic away
Drains me
Sleep deprived in witching-time
Drains me
It drains the magic away
Drains me
Sleep deprived in witching-time
Drains all the magic away
Death drained me
It drains the magic away
Drains me
Sleep deprived in witching-time
Drains me
It drains the magic away
Drains me
Sleep deprived in witching-time
Drains all the magic away
It drains the magic away