There's a stranger in my house

[Peewee]

I don't understand, he looks just like the man in the picture by my bed. The suspense is pounding and clouding my head. I'm checking his clothes and he wears the same size shoes, but I don't know just who he is. It took a while to figure out.

He has gotta be someone else because he wouldn't touch me like that and he wouldn't treat me like crap.
He would adore me, he wouldn't ignore me. So I'm convinced there's a stranger in my house. If these walls could talk, they would have nothing to tell.

So what could it be? Is there someone imitating me? Could she be taking my place;
someone look me in the face and tell me that I'm wrong when I say there's a stranger in my house. I gave him a pop quiz.

I asked him where we first kissed, where my spot is, if I liked it, loved it. Or could it be that the stranger is me, have I changed so drastically? I'm definitiely convinced that there's a stranger in my house.

[TurkeyBeef]

This is your face; this is your face full of holes.

[Whelt]

I think there's some in my house.

[TurkeyBeef]

I think there's some in my house.

Oh you.

[Peewee]

People this is serious the stranger hasn't left yet.

[TurkeyBeef]

Did you bring a knife?

[Peewee]

I have my little swiss-army knife.

[TurkeyBeef]

Phooey, you didn't get the joke.

[Peewee]

Oh. Was I suppose to say no?

[TurkeyBeef]

Pretty much.

[Peewee]

That's GaaaaaaaY.

[TurkeyBeef]

That's GaaaaaaaY.

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