Automatic

It's your cake you decide when to have it
In this life it takes all kinds of nasty habits

If I were you, if I were you
And circumstances rearranged I would do
Almost anything to shake free, get loose
But it's automatic
Eyes of glass and a mind tuned to static
Every once in awhile I see a light flicker in the attic

It's my head, It's my head
Breaking itself to make a thought but instead
Just some pornographic images to stave off my death
It's all automatic
It's all automatic

Then I reach the bottom and I open the door
And standing there is this figure with your face but not your eyes staring at me menacingly

At this point I speak and I say "you have come to kill me"
And then you say "I have come to save you" and then you stab me in the chest