Is It Progression If a Cannibal Uses a Fork?

Listen up, sweetie, we all know
That you're a beautiful girl in this horrible world
In this suggestion of horror, the portraits on the walls
Look at their eyes, they always seem to followLook at their eyes, they always seem to follow meOut of tune this tale of terror
The solemn tolling of the funeral bells
I want to know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours
Where every day's a Bone Palace BalletBiting the flesh from your finger
You know I just can't help myself
I wish to believe but belief is a graveyard
May this light never see morning, as finally one will notMaybe you're the one that's overrated
Shriek and scream, much too horrified to speakOut of tune this tale of terror
The solemn tolling of the funeral bells
I want to know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours
Where every day's a Bone Palace Ballet
Every day, [Incomprehensible]This morning I woke up, I rubbed my eyes
And I took a quick glance around the room
And saw what happened here last nightThere was blood on the walls
And the sheets smelled like sweat and sex
We have narrowed it down to the butcher knife
And the mockingbird with the bloodOut of tune this tale of terror
The solemn tolling of the funeral bells
I want to know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours
Where every day's a Bone Palace Ballet