Album: From Under The Cork Tree

I got my stitches stitched, I got my fixes fixed,
In my aching heads I got my kisses slipped.
Our gossip lips stuttered every word I said, I said,

I got your love letters, corrected the grammar and sent them back.
It's true - romance is dead, I shot it in the chest then in the head.

And if you wanna go down in history then I'm your prince,
Because they've got me in a band where I've never seen a heart I couldn't break.
It was never about the songs, it was competition,
Make the biggest scene, make the biggest...

Which came first, the music or the misery?
We're high-fashioned, we're last chances.
Which came first, the music or the misery?
We're high-fashioned, we're last chances.

I'm casualty-obsessed and I've forgiven death,
I am indifferent yet (I am a total wreck),
I'm every cliche, but I simply do it best.

And if you wanna go down in history then I'm your prince,
Because they've got me in a band where I've never seen a heart I couldn't break.
It was never about the songs, it was competition,
Make the biggest scene, make the biggest...

Which came first, the music or the misery?
We're high-fashioned, we're last chances.
Which came first, the music or the misery?
We're high-fashioned, we're last chances.

(Go!)

I went to sleep a poet, and I woke up a fraud,
To calm your nerves I'm feeling for my clothes in the dark.

Which came first, the music or the misery?
We're high-fashioned, we're last chances.

Which came first, the music or the misery?
We're high-fashioned, we're last chances.
Which came first, the music or the misery?
We're high-fashioned, we're last chances.

Comments