Woorden: Debra Davis. Angels In The Attic. Enemy.

I have an enemy, hides itself in side of me
Anytime I try to be too perfect
Pours a drink, lights a smoke
Makes itself feel right at home
Anytime I try to be too perfect
And it makes me sleep with the things I fear
And it holds regret like a souvenir
Gonna run me out of here
I wish the invisible would disappear
I have a doubting ghost, says I make a friendly host
When I wonder if I do deserve it
Bites my heels, haunts my dream
Puts me in the way of me
When I wonder if I do deserve it
And it makes me sleep with the things I fear
Gonna run me out of here
I wish the invisible would disappear