Burn the instructions or plague the inventor? Quick, easy, and painless I’m a careless romantic Wandering the streets Luring strangers in the dark If they follow in my footsteps Then I’ll love them all blind
If you want to make a scene Then you’ve gotta make a scene I’ll put my hands on you You put your hands on me If you want to make a scene I wasn’t looking for trouble But trouble found me
You fucked with the wrong son of a bitch.
I caught you staring it’s not your fault I killed the lights ‘cause I saw it all I caught you staring it’s not your fault I kissed your lips but not for too long
Tick tock, tick tock; the hour is up Told to be anxious You’re a bit out of line Sew it up like every other time Un-amused at the table by the bedroom They’re all mine
If you want to make a scene Then you’ve gotta make a scene You fucked with the wrong son of a bitch You put your hands on me I’ll put my hands on you You fucked with the wrong son of a bitch Sew it up like every other time So in love like every other time The needle and thread make me shiver The red on your hands spells out martyr
(I caught you staring it’s not your fault)
I killed the lights ‘cause I saw it all (I caught you staring it’s not your fault) I swear to God I watched you fall Your perfect picture left its mark I kissed your lips but not for too long