Laura, you've done it again. You've got another man in the palm of your hands.
Just another game covered in sin, and the cards are all out, and you've
gone out bounds, and you just can't seem to win. It's Russian Roulette,
and the bullet's coming.
Could I ever be sorry for not being sorry for lying to you? No.
Could I ever be sorry for not being sorry for doing to you what you did to me, too?
No. No, I won't. No. No, I won't.
Laura, the stage is all set, but the make-up you wear cannot hide your regret.
As you move around scene to scene, you've got the movements down,
but you're slowly forgetting them. Oh no! Do you need me to feed your lines to you?
Could I ever be sorry for not being sorry for lying to you? No.
Could I ever be sorry for not being sorry for doing to you what you did to me, too?
No. No, I won't. No. No, I won't.
Take all your photographs. You couldn't make them last.
You put it in the past, but can I forgive you? No.
Could I ever be sorry for not being sorry for lying to you? No.
Could I ever be sorry for not being sorry for doing to you what you did to me, too?
No. No, I won't. No. No, I won't.
No.