My little pocket knife, she stabs herself into my side.
A true love knife fight.
My little arsonist, she consumes me in a blaze.
Going down in flames.
I want to hang helpless from your noose, I do.
Tie me up inside your room.
I’ll whisper all the ways I long for you to destroy me baby.
Don’t want an after life, don’t wanna feel alive at all. (We got dead hearts baby!)
Prom King and Queen at the ‘Apathy Ball’.
But in the dead of night she holds me like a hand grenade.
A dinner date at an infirmary.