The Chosen Voltaire

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Last night a moth came to my bed
And filled my tired weary head
With horrid tales of you
I can't believe it's true
But then the lamp shade smiled at me
And it said, "Believe," it said, "believe."
I want you to know it's nothing personal

First time I had sex I was three
First time consenting was thirteen
Though you weren't there you remind
Me of those hands
Roses are red, violets are blue
If I'm schizophrenic, then I am too!
Whatever it takes to escape

I hope you understand
Why I'm forced to take your life in my hands
I want you to know it's nothing personal
And though we've never met
I've seen your image in a million waking dreams
Your eyes they call to me, "Set me free."

Did I ever tell you? You look like my mother
She once left me in a supermarket
I promised myself that I'd never feel that way again
Did I ever tell you? You look like my dear old mother