We lost ourselves in these bright lights and cigarettes.
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We became our charade.
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A classic primetime tragedy, so skin graphed, a romantically hopeless war path.
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Statistically the cameras said.
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That lovers like us die, in car wrecks.
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Mathematically incorrect, you fuckers ain't seen nothin yet.
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And baby tonight we'll be the robots in the spotlight.
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We lost ourselves in these bright lights and cigarettes.
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We became our charade.
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A classic primetime tragedy, so skin graphed, a romantically hopeless warpath.
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Statistically the cameras set.
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And lovers like us die in car wrecks.
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A lack of evidence kept our names off the credits.
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Panegyrized masterminds, we directed this warped pantomime.
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And everything was just right, from your makup to the lights.
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Park the car baby quiet on the set.
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Trigger fingers entwined...I knew this was our time.
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This was our time, the poison burns my insides but ask me if i mind.
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And baby tonight, we'll be the robots in the spotlight and we'll break free of the programming.
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And the whole world will know of our love.
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Statistics Like Cigarettes
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| Odd Project |
