In the school rooms
Coloured in the brightest of paints
In beautiful buildings
Selectively named after saints
There are monsters here
Because they’re ours
We pretend they don’t exist
And it makes no sense
In studios
Where they market the young
Secrets are kept
No matter what song is sung
There are monsters here
Because they’re ours
We turn our faces
And it makes no sense
In private halls
Whether red, white or blue
We feed the pigs
And protect them as they chew
There are monsters here
But because they’re ours
We vote for them
And it makes no sense
Under your beds
In your closet while you sleep
Down the drains and in dark
Where shadows creep
There’s no monsters here
Hiding in the gloom
Just people who look like us
Who are waiting in your room
