I'm sick and tired of hanging out my window,
I've learnt from past experience rain can't make flowers grow,
And friends don't stick around,
They go which way the wind blows,
You're never safe and sound, 'til all the doors are closed.
Doors closed,
Doors closed,
When you're awake and your own shadows turn into ghosts.
When you're awake and your own shadows turn into ghosts.
Ahh, oh.
Soon it will all fall apart,
And their roads will have no way,
And you'll be the one laughing,
As their fences fade away,
And instead of being left there, feeling all alone,
Break down the house you made of match sticks,
And set fire to their throne.
To the throne,
To the throne,
When you're awake and your own shadows turn into ghosts.
When you're awake and your own shadows turn into ghosts.
Home becomes what you're scared of the most.
Home becomes what you're scared of the most.
When shadows turn into ghosts,
It's what you're scared of the most.
I'm pulling pictures off the wall watching smiles as they fall,
I'm pulling pictures off the wall watching smiles as they fall,
I'm pulling pictures off the wall watching smiles as they fall,
I'm pulling pictures off the wall,
I'm pulling pictures off the wall watching smiles as they fall.
When you're awake and your own shadows turn into ghosts.
When you're awake and your own shadows turn into ghosts.
Home becomes what you're scared of the most.
Home becomes what you're scared of the most.
When shadows turn into ghosts,
It's what you're scared of the most.
Writer(s): Gabrielle Aplin
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