a jet black new year to celebrate
don't even take a breath
the air is cut with c y a n i d e
in honor of the new year
the press gives us cause to celebrate:
these air raid sirens
flood barbed wire skylines
by artificial night,
as we s l e e p to b u r n t h e r e d
from our b l o o dl e s s lives.
tonight we're all time bombs
on fault lines.
have we lost everything now?
we're walking
like each other's ghosts
around these s i l e n t s t r e e t s
(the sedatives t e l l you everything
is alright)
like calendars dying
at new year's eve parties
as we k i s s hard on the lips
and swear this year
w i l l be b e t t e r then the last
j e t b l a c k - the i n k that s p e l l s your name
j e t b l a c k - the b l o o d that's in your veins
we say, "how long can we take this chance n o t to celebrate?"
there's music playing
but we dance to the beat
of our own b l a c k h e a r t s
and d r a w d i a g r a m s
of s u i c i d e on each other's wrists
then t r a c e t h e m with r a z o r b l a d e s
>>f i r e t o f l a m e s<<
__"s t r i k e m a t c h."__
b u r n these words from our lips
as the dagger screams,
"l o v e is dead,
and it's a newspaper tragedy."
have we lost what we l o v e?
have we said everything?
does it change anything?
stare at the clock
avoid at all costs,
this emptiness.
t e n seconds left
until midnight
n i n e chances to drown ourselves
in black hair dye
e i g h t faces turned away
from the shock:
s e v e n windows and s i x of them
were locked
five stories falling
f o u r ever and ever
t h r e e cheers to the mirror
now there are t w o of us
can we have o n e last dance?
how long can we take this chance not to celebrate life?
the air is cut with c y a n i d e
in honor of the new year
the press gives us cause to celebrate:
these air raid sirens
flood barbed wire skylines
by artificial night,
as we s l e e p to b u r n t h e r e d
from our b l o o dl e s s lives.
tonight we're all time bombs
on fault lines.
have we lost everything now?
we're walking
like each other's ghosts
around these s i l e n t s t r e e t s
(the sedatives t e l l you everything
is alright)
like calendars dying
at new year's eve parties
as we k i s s hard on the lips
and swear this year
w i l l be b e t t e r then the last
j e t b l a c k - the i n k that s p e l l s your name
j e t b l a c k - the b l o o d that's in your veins
we say, "how long can we take this chance n o t to celebrate?"
there's music playing
but we dance to the beat
of our own b l a c k h e a r t s
and d r a w d i a g r a m s
of s u i c i d e on each other's wrists
then t r a c e t h e m with r a z o r b l a d e s
>>f i r e t o f l a m e s<<
__"s t r i k e m a t c h."__
b u r n these words from our lips
as the dagger screams,
"l o v e is dead,
and it's a newspaper tragedy."
have we lost what we l o v e?
have we said everything?
does it change anything?
stare at the clock
avoid at all costs,
this emptiness.
t e n seconds left
until midnight
n i n e chances to drown ourselves
in black hair dye
e i g h t faces turned away
from the shock:
s e v e n windows and s i x of them
were locked
five stories falling
f o u r ever and ever
t h r e e cheers to the mirror
now there are t w o of us
can we have o n e last dance?
how long can we take this chance not to celebrate life?