Add it Here. Watch the song video Monster [Robin Schulz Remix]. Browse Lyrics. Our awesome collection of Promoted Songs ». Michael J. Good Bye Dave. Have you ever. Quiz Are you a music master? Get instant explanation for any lyrics that hits you anywhere on the web! Two clicks install ». Get instant explanation for any acronym or abbreviation that hits you anywhere on the web! His little whispers "Love me, love me" That's all I ask for "Love me, love me" He battered his tiny fists to feel something Wondered what it's like to touch and feel something Monster How should I feel?
Creatures lie here Looking through the window That night he caged her Bruised and broke her He struggled closer Then he stole her Violet wrists and then her ankles Silent pain Then he slowly saw their nightmares were his dreams Monster How should I feel? Turn the sheets down Murder ears with pillow lace There's bath tubs Full of glow flies Bathe in kerosene Their words tattooed in his veins, yeah Edit Lyrics.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind. Monster song meanings. Add Your Thoughts Comments. General Comment yeah it does sound alot like rape, i mean, look. That night he caged her. Bruised and broke her. There was an error. That makes sense, I think it is rape. General Comment Well. It's actually based off of a story they wrote. It may be kind of long Here are the lyrics to Monster written by a collaboration of Meg and I. Many of our songs that we write, and many of the ones that will be on the new record are about stories.
Stories about friends, about strangers, about history, and about characters in some of our most favorite books. Posted below are the actual lyrics to "Monster," as well as the short story I wrote next to those lines along time ago. Always behind the couch. Under the table. The closet under the stairs. Three places to run. Three places to hide. Every time their voices would rise I would run to the closest sanctuary and thank God I was small enough to fit.
Those voices that ran across each corner of the room seemed to reverberate off my very skin. He told me to call him Sir. Never Dad. She told me to call her Hannah. She was so pretty when she slept.
She was so pretty when she was happy. Now, her body of twenty years was old. Tired from no sleep, breaking from fingertips pressed into her sides, and boiling with too hard of liquor for her fragile, porcelain outline.
After every uproar, every tear by her, and every empty bottle by himthey would come looking. Her, happy to see him turn his malice towards me. Him, happy to turn his malice away from himself. I was the six year old pathetic coward. Sir, I would say. My eyes would wander to Hannah with frightened curiosity. What had I done? I called him sir. I called her Hannah. They called me Henry at school. They called me Henry at church.
They called me Monster at home. After black, they would confine me to my room. A tiny room with one window, where their words said minutes earlier would form long sentences and wrap around in a circle above my head like those music boxes loving mothers would clip to the sides of their infants cribs.
I hated my room. I hated the dark. They knew it, too, and took pleasure in locking me in. Locking me in where they could get me. Dear Reader: Please note, if you ever were a six year old child, remember what it was like to lay in bed and imagine that loud heartbeat pulsing thick from underneath your mattress. Remember that hand that hovered over your face once you closed your eyes.
Remember that loud breathing that resided around your open window. The creatures. That white little girl that crawled towards you in the night, hair hanging around the neck, fingers outstretched To a child it is horrid. To an adult, it is a memory that most barely ever remember. Twenty years later. I didnt understand love. But the fact of the matter is that I feel I'm startin' to crack And they say "Don't take it to heart," well how the fuck do I not?
When I put my soul inside somethin' and they say it's a flop Constantly tear my art apart when this is all that I got They wanna see me on a stage or me left in a grave to rot I've been overstressin' 'bout overstressin' I lie in bed and think about this life I'm manifestin' Yeah, my depression's always yellin' that I'm destined for regression Sad obsession with progression, still they think that I'm just desperate for attention Broke dead about around this time, just last fall At therapy tellin' my therapist I feel so small Pushed everyone I love away, and fuck, it's all my fault Is it better to feel like this or to feel nothin' at all?
I turned the lights down lonely.
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