Two dead, one in the middle of the Bronx
The other in the center of a Jersey restaurant
Another grave for the digger with the crimson blade
I ain't a saint or a sinner I'm the ghost you made
I fucking dare you,
You wouldn't know a good hook if it impaled you
That chorus isn't yours, eighty-five is for the label
So are you able to take the blame,
As a pawn to the winner of a losing game?
Let's flip the board on all these fans and their bands
You love the way the knives dance when they play with your hands
Oh, you swear you want to cut through the static,
It won't be cinematic!
So here's a lesson in dramatics that
You will never forget
Cross my heart out, were you hoping that I just might die now?
I'm not done with you yet
And keep your heartbeat beating
the Beat being the thing that beats the shit out of me, Baby
Cut my tongue out, were you hoping that I might shut up now?
I'm not done with you yet!
And keep your tough tongue tugging at heartstrings
and talking all the shit you want to, Baby
Listen, I'm gonna keep you in suspense
And keep you guessing
Keep your fingers crossed
I'll throw a little anchor your way
I see you trying to float
The water's over your head,
You better stay on your toes
Cross my heart out, were you hoping that I just might die now?
Just keep your heartbeat beating, the Beat being the only thing I'll ever need
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