Those are the dead stars 
Those are the dead stars 
You said you'd drown in my words 
Pushed by the ink of my pen 
Those Are the dead stars 
He climbs to the highest branch of the tree 
He [bad word] down; you need to cut him down 
And now your shadows will know 
Why your flowers won't grow 
Those branches are denser than blood 
Shoot him, shoot him, shoot him, shoot 
Electric ink on a feather 
Cleaned by the salt of the sea 
I'll pas it on to the insects 
So they can document me 
Those are the dead stars 
He climbs to the highest branch of the tree 
He [bad word] down; you need to cut him down 
And now your shadows will know 
Why your flowers won't grow 
We bludgeon the cut 
To open the scab 
We burn off our roots and pretend that we're sad 
Repeat Until we believe that this is the life that we lead 
This is the life that we'll lead 
This is the light that you'll keep 
So John, get the gun 
If this is the road 
We'll have us some fun 
We'll stay up all night and say our goodbyes 
These are the dead stars that march by your eyes 
Razors listen 
We grind our teeth 
Dig our plots 
Ten feet deep 
That way no one has any reason [bad word] 
Caught by the spine  [bad word] 
Those are the dead stars