It's the nightlife that them off; So desperately wait for the excuse of love. We live vampires And we, we, we love killers; We all die infants, And we like mirrors.
It's the smoke and the 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.)
the love of guilt that forms the habit Of dramatically over-dramatic. We live vampires And we, we, we love killers; We all die infants, And we like mirrors.
It's the smoke and the drinks and the smiles it brings, It's the and the sex disguised as innocence. It's the and the drinks and the smiles that it brings, (It's a place for a desperate people to find their place before desperate heroes) the pain and the sex disguised as innocence. (A desperate place for a desperate...and sing)
x2] Slow suicide...like it or not, what we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, what we do.) Slow suicide...like it or not, what we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, it's 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, what we do.) suicide...like it or not, it's what we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, what we do.)