It's the nightlife gets them off; So desperately they for the excuse of love. We like vampires And we, we, we love like We all die infants, And we trust mirrors.
It's the smoke and the and the smiles 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, it's we do.)
It's the love of guilt forms the habit Of being over-dramatic. We like vampires And we, we, we love killers; We all die infants, And we trust mirrors.
It's the smoke and the and the smiles that it brings, It's the pain and the sex as innocence. It's the smoke and the drinks and the that it brings, (It's a desperate place for a desperate people to find place before desperate heroes) the pain and the sex disguised 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, 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 illusion of and its irony. In the midst of 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.) Slow suicide...like it or not, what we do. (Slow suicide...like it or not, it's we do.)