It's the nightlife that gets them So they wait for the excuse of love. 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, It's the pain and the sex as innocence.
Slow suicide...like it or not, it's we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, it's we do.)
It's the love of that forms the habit Of being over-dramatic. We live like 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, It's the and the sex disguised as innocence. It's the smoke and the and the smiles that it brings, (It's a desperate place for a desperate people to find their place desperate heroes) It's the and the sex disguised as innocence. (A desperate place for a desperate...and sing)
x2] Slow suicide...like it or not, it's we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, it's we do.) suicide...like it or not, it's what we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, what we do.)
x2] The they sing are in the key Of the of pain and its irony. In the of lust and dropping names The drugs they numb and keep us sane.
x2] Slow suicide...like it or not, it's we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, it's we do.) suicide...like it or not, it's what we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, it's we do.)