♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪ When you're sad inside, whipping up your lines about destroying, like you could only care for the bitter end of it. Again. ♪♪♪ ♪ Hold me at your side, call me to deny that I had loved you, when I already can't even walk past twelve to get a grandma. ♪♪♪ ♪ Even at the golden light of morning, leading you away from all this strife, having an ordinary company that always leaves you dry. Even at the concave continental, laughing at the way you cut your lines, having all of everybody's bag and bucking of the time. When you've had enough, so you tossed it up like skeet and shot it, just to mark up your week with a little candy of blood red. Even at the golden light of morning, leading you away from all this strife, having an ordinary company that always leaves you dry. Even at the concave continental, laughing at the way you cut your lines, having all of everybody's bag and bucking of the time. ♪♪♪♪ ♪♪♪♪