Enter The Poet - Feeling Kinda Spooky
The hairs on my neck begin to stir
behind my back there is a slight blur
footsteps moving towards me prowl
outside all my dogs begin to howl
I cannot run within this confined space
my heart flutters and picks up its pace
I turn to look, and to meet my doom
It's mom, to tell me, to clean my room
behind my back there is a slight blur
footsteps moving towards me prowl
outside all my dogs begin to howl
I cannot run within this confined space
my heart flutters and picks up its pace
I turn to look, and to meet my doom
It's mom, to tell me, to clean my room
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