I should have screamed at her. She might've woken up
 It'd make a much better story than the one I've got
 Because the world heard all it cared to hear about dying

 She's a saint and I'm a predator. We never pra(e)y alone
 The lord built me from dirt to build her out of my bones
 That's how the world heard all it ever could about lying
 And every song's about the young while we're decaying

 I'll let you in if you've got the stomach to watch me swallow the sea.
 Because my pride alone won't put this fire out.
 And it's all that ever kept me warm

 I should've screamed at her. She might've smartened up
 What kind of twisted conversation ends in giving up?
 But then the world's heard just about enough of your whining

 I'm a prick because I'm built for it. My teeth are water stones
 Keeping my bayonet sharp in case these gunpowder lungs
 Allow the world in just a bit too close to ignite them
 And every song's about the young while we're decaying
 Like some uninspired cadence but baby

 The scenes define our home. The crooked frames we claim we're leaving behind
 From slamming our way through these doors. These scenes define our home
 Because the world's heard just about enough of your whining

 I'm fine as long as when they sing about
 The young while we're decaying Like some final fading cadence
 You can hold my hand and watch me mouth the words