I need a makeshift lover like a bullet in the head.
Thanks to them I've grown despondent.
Something about the way, something about the way you say that love can't save,
sounds like the whisper of a snake.
Wait for the right time to strike, then spit your venom.
I've become a man devoid of trust in anyone who wasn't bound by blood, for water only proves thicker in our tears.
I have never known a dream to transcend reality without a reason to retreat.
There's something about the way you say I will never see the day when love becomes my only saving grace...
Beneath the moonlight, you seem so lovely.
Oh how our eyes deceive, now don't they?
I have never known a dream to transcend reality without a reason to retreat.
Something about the way you say, nothing can overcome this pain sounds like the devil's poison reckoning.
Spit venom.
Every wounded lover has the feeling they'll never heal.
Every ruined romance leaves the stain of regret.
On to the next foolish victim waiting in line to sign away their life.
On to the next foolish victim...
Take the lead, a foot on the floor - one in the grave.
Can't you just see we're destine to deserve this?
Follow me, a foot on the floor - one in the grave.
Can't you see we're dancing with the devil?
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