It's the nightlife that them off; So they wait for the excuse of love. We live like And we, we, we like 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 the habit Of being over-dramatic. We live like And we, we, we like 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. the smoke and the drinks and the smiles that it brings, (It's a desperate place for a desperate people to their place before 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, what we do.) Slow suicide...like it or not, it's we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, what we do.)
x2] The they sing are in the key Of the illusion of and its irony. In the midst of lust and dropping The drugs numb and they 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.)