I feel your breath stingning my neck,
Are these final words always laced with regret?
We'll drink this bitter cyanide as it rushes through our veins,
You'll dream of something tragic this time I'm making magic,
With my hands wrapped around your neck
It feels so right this time, this time.
Break it up, break it up,
I'm so sorry, you know how arsenic goes straight to my head,
You're breaking up on the transistor
Radios are out of style, let the airwaves melt my skin,
As the cyanide sinks in
Tell me something remind me of one thing to bring me back.
So the medic goes, grab your bags its time
We're ready to explode.
Break it up, break it up,
I'm so sorry, you know how arsenic goes straight to my head,
You're breaking up on the transistor
Radios are out of style, let the airwaves melt my skin,
As the cyanide sinks in
Tell me something remind me of one thing to bring me back.
You deliver your words as simple bullets through the air,
And through the sharpened switchblades
I see white eyes and florescent stares.
As we look in the mirror we see the ghost that lives inside,
And broken bones and bruises that create this faded smile.
So the medic goes, grab your bags its time,
We're ready to explode.
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