heaven is a lonely place to die
even if it's called a paradise.
there must be a reason why
the ticket comes
with a warning in small font.
don't forget to say goodbye,
there will be no coming back
from this joyride.
take a step towards your dream.
is it just as sweet as you thought?
was it really worth your life?
i hope so.
heaven is a lonely place to die
even if it's called a paradise.
now that you're already here,
welcome home.

i poured my sadness into you
although it wasn't fair,
i made you suffer the same fate
because i was so scared
to be alone.
and in this empty, desolated place
i stole your light,
abused your grace,
and then i took your life.
i know that it's too late,
there's no way home.
i'm sorry,
i'm just scared to be alone.

the things i've done,
they sank into my skin
and drew a crimson pattern
on the surface,
so when i die,
i want to die with purpose,
and cleanse away
this everlasting sin.

...and at the end
of the line
i'd still bend down for you,
bow my head for you,
break my neck for you,
rip my heart out of my chest
for you.
and even if i'm to die
at your hand,
i would do so willingly,
standing right in front of you.
i'd bleed out for you,
give my life to you,
stain my name for you,
for at the end of the line
all my love belongs to you.
you're the only one i want,
the only one i need,
the only one i see,
and for me
there can never be anyone else
but you.

i'm rewriting my past
and rebuilding my mind;
i've been killing myself
just to feel alive,
but it doesn't work anymore.
so i'm learning to dream,
and it's hard to believe,
but i don't really want to die.
i'm rewriting my past
and letting my fears go;
i've been killing myself
just to feel alive,
but that's not who i am
anymore.

i'll come back to you
from the ashes of our past,
from the terrible things that i've done,
from the sins i still need to atone for,
from the blood of your sacrifice,
from the steps of my broken home;
from the pain that i've caused,
from the darkness inside my heart,
from the madness that shattered my core,
from the wreckage of our past,
from the terrible things that i've done,
from the sins i still need to atone for.

my lips are cold,
but i still feel it burning,
the aftertaste of words
i didn't say.
i wish i knew
how to explain
this restless, hungry yearning
to be somebody's lover
for a day.