We said we meant business and you saw it first hand.
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The evidence sleeps in ditches, and it's caked on our hands.
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The doctor. The broken necks.
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The archer stands atop the architect and breathes through one last cigarette.
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He says "Though these weren't the best of times,
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we made the best of it, and tonight we're fingerpainting everything red."
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How quickly we forget where we came from.
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It's sickening. He better not forget where those stains came from.
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He says "I remember, but these won't get the best of me.
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This is nothing new to me.
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We're so strong enough to show them that these are just the moments when friends turn foes.
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Enemies just cast you off and watch you float away.
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Go to the house of the actor's.
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We'll drink that blood, and celebrate after we break down that door.
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Settling the score with a pain that has never been inflicted before."
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Those times were too much for me.
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My heart is so stuck in my throat that my tongue is on my sleeve again.
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I've stepped on so many toes that I cannot keep track of them all.
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The heart is like a hand grenade. We waited so patiently.
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Long enough to show them that these are just the moments when friends turn foes.
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Our enemies will laugh it off and let it go.
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We write it off as history, but we cannot forget this and you cannot dismiss this.
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So savour it whole. Don't question it.
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The best of times is just two steps away.
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We're finger painting everything red.
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|
-----------------
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Afterparty At The Actor's Estate
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| The Reason |
