| This is the way to find my harlequins face |
| To my junkie dead body |
| Still covered in lace |
| The flesh still warm where skin had once been my lips |
| My smile just scattered fragments lining the ditch |
| You like to watch when I bleed |
| (like a coward) |
| I’ve got some right here for you |
| I push you down on your knees |
| (such a good whore) |
| I make your dreams come true |
| At 60 miles an hour on course and pace in hybrid mental states |
| So my pathetic limp kiss has never caught this way |
| No catalyst begins across the face of those who end |
| Leaving it’s scar too deep for all of your attempts to mend |
| Come on cowards |
| Come on you whores |
| I’ve got no choice but this if I can’t get rid of it You’ll never be any match |
| For what I can do to myself |
| I’m still stuck here breaking it backwards apart |
| Watching all the raindrops cover up before we can start ( |
| Like a coward) |
| Without a doubt that all will be washed away |
| There’s still no proof to see if I will someday |
| You like to watch when I bleed |
| (like a coward) |
| I’ve got some right here for you |
| I push you down on your knees |
| (such a good whore) |
| I make your dreams come true |
| I’ve got no choice but this if I can’t get rid of it You’ll never be any match |
| For what I can do to myself |
| Come on cowards/come on you whores |