If we cut out the bad
Well then we'd have nothing left
Like I cut up your mouth
The night I stuffed it all in
And you lied to the Angels
Said I stabbed you to death
If we go at the same time
They'll clean up the mess
I lost my head, you couldn't come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
Watch your body into the bottle
Watch me kick out the chair
Let you chew up the glass
And laughed as you just hung there
I had thought of rose petals
Most perfectly pure
Then I thought of your petals
And the abuse they've been through
I lost my head, you couldn't come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
You lost your head, I couldn't come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a
Almost feels like a, almost feels like a gun
I told the Angels, can't stay in Heaven
I asked the Devil, the Devil, the Devil
If we cut out the bad
Well then we'd have nothing left
Like I cut up your Angels
Yeah, you stabbed me to death
I lost my head, you couldn't come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
You lost your head, I couldn't come
This lust to my brain almost feels just like a gun, yeah
I lost my head, you couldn't come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun
I lost my head, you couldn't come
This lust to my brain almost feels like a
Almost feels like a, almost feels like a gun
Feels like a gun, feels like a gun
Feels like a gun, feels like a
© EMI BLACKWOOD MUSIC INC.; THE USED MOVEMENT MUSIC;
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