This once
Are you going [bad word] from here? 
I'm dying to know if she died to me
Take it back now
Are you going [bad word] from here? 
I'm dying to know if she died to me
She is not that strange
She says goodbye some day
My black coffee fantasy never seems to bother me
In my mind I'm hoping I'll betray the sinners dance and fade away
I'll fade away
Dying (My godess and my gods)
And the blood taste was red
Change is not that strange
She says goodbye some day
Press the story of stories praised, 
Of love and women up above, 
Layer this guilt that fits like a glove, 
I say it before you heated and tickle, 
Press the story of stories, Paint with love, 
The woman up above lets me wear this guilt, 
That fits like a glove
I can see on my own now
Breath in the culture, 
And I will take what's mine
And I will try to stay mundane
Pretending it hurts you, 
I will take what's mine,
And I will try to stay mundane