It's the nightlife that gets off; So desperately they wait for the of love. We like vampires And we, we, we love killers; We all die infants, And we trust mirrors.
It's the smoke and the drinks and the that it brings, It's the and the sex disguised as innocence.
Slow suicide...like it or not, it's we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, what we do.)
It's the love of guilt that forms the Of being over-dramatic. We live vampires And we, we, we love killers; We all die infants, And we trust mirrors.
It's the and the drinks and the smiles that it brings, the pain and the sex disguised as innocence. It's the smoke and the drinks and the smiles it brings, (It's a desperate place for a desperate people to find place before desperate heroes) It's the pain and the sex as innocence. (A desperate for a desperate...and they sing)
x2] Slow suicide...like it or not, what we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, what we do.) suicide...like it or not, it's what we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, what we do.)
x2] The songs sing are in the key Of the of pain and its irony. In the of lust and dropping names The drugs numb and they keep us sane.
x2] Slow suicide...like it or not, what we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, it's we do.) Slow suicide...like it or not, it's we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, it's we do.)