3.The Collector
I pick things up
I am a collector
And things-well-things which tend to work your mind
I have this net
It drags behind me
It picks up things
For me to feed upon
There are times - plenty of times
I wish I could let it go
They start to breed, and they start to grow inside of me
There are times - plenty of times
I wish I could let it go
But they start to make me think things I don't wanna know
I'm trying to fit it all inside
I'm trying to open my mouth wide
I'm trying not to choke
And swallow it all, swallow it all, swallow it all
I am the plaque I am the swarm
All your heart sticks on me
And I keep it warm
They won't let me stay they won't let me leave
They are soo many of them it gets hard to breath
Every last one every last one every last on every last one
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