steal me a weapon
steal me a show
take me a picture
and pack it to go
steal me a reason
to be a nice guy
ask me to marry you
and then try to cry
let me go running
let me get back
tell me I'm funny
then tell me i ****
after you crush me
pick me back up
steal me a Tourette's
and come in to rub
stare when i curse
while you **** me a show
I'll tell you i love you
you'll tell me you know

i know, i know life's too complex
you tell me everytime i drown
but you know, you know we flex
just enough to stay around

we are going straight to hell
that's what she said
we are saving a regret
to keep us cold along the road

"are we going to a party?"
i never understood her fret
but i took my coat and hat
and drank my final round

she didn't even try to answer
she just went for the door
as i looked wryly at the floor
"we are going straight to hell!"

are you always so sour
or are you playing pretend
i can't make you as happy
as your best friend

but i can give you my skin
and the sound that it makes
when it touches the rim
of your ***** mistakes

are you always so sour
or is it the dark table
i can't really devour you
as good as that "black label"

but i can find you in ashes
and bring back your colours
with the light from the crashes
of my previous lovers