Scene:
Everyone in a hurry to get to hell
Where he can't say I Love You
Even when he's drunk and you're begging
Baby, please tell me what I dream of hearing
What I carve into my neck at night
After the Om Nashi Me's go to bed
Everyone running through this death march
And eyes hollow out without a doubt
Your yellow undertones from your mothers throne
Boy this is not slow dancing in a burning room
This is arson, setting the house on fire and rolling in the flames
Because your hands won't even reach out to pull me from the oven
I am tired of waiting for perfectly drunken nights to kiss you and drink from your cup
I am tired of running through this death march
Let's slow down and dance under blankets in the shed
We are twenty, we are not dead