The windows of your open soul are no longer for us to see through
You sprayed them with black paint to keep anyone from really seeing you
Stop cutting out your tongue, one of these days it just won't grow back
and you'll never speak another word or sing to me again.
Stop polluting yourself,
These handsome daggers won't stab any deeper
We won't be killing ourselves.
Darling, it's okay to bleed.
The microphone explodes as you spew your explanations
Not a disease, it's a cure, for the ragged infatuations
Stop cutting out your tongue, we need to hear you speak
In the end of the earth, I want you singing song to me.
Stop destroying yourself,
These handsome daggers belong in gentlemen's hands.
No more wasting ourselves.
Darling, it's okay to breathe.
Not saving ourselves,
Its a bad habit, I fear that you learned from me.
Off with the heads of our enemies
Darling, it's okay to grieve.
Its okay with me.