I should have screamed at her. She might've woken up It'd make a much better story than the one I've got Because the world heard all it cared to hear about dying
She's a saint and I'm a predator. We never pra(e)y alone The lord built me from dirt to build her out of my bones That's how the world heard all it ever could about lying And every song's about the young while we're decaying
I'll let you in if you've got the stomach to watch me swallow the sea. Because my pride alone won't put this fire out. And it's all that ever kept me warm
I should've screamed at her. She might've smartened up What kind of twisted conversation ends in giving up? But then the world's heard just about enough of your whining
I'm a prick because I'm built for it. My teeth are water stones Keeping my bayonet sharp in case these gunpowder lungs Allow the world in just a bit too close to ignite them And every song's about the young while we're decaying Like some uninspired cadence but baby
The scenes define our home. The crooked frames we claim we're leaving behind From slamming our way through these doors. These scenes define our home Because the world's heard just about enough of your whining
I'm fine as long as when they sing about The young while we're decaying Like some final fading cadence You can hold my hand and watch me mouth the words