4 acessos
Take a ride on this macabre kissing booth,
Your seven minutes in heaven are finally up.
I'm through finding new ways to kill hearts with cheap kisses.
I never get used to all the blood. We just play our games;
we're all the same, Just passing on pain.
But no more, I'm through; I'm going to burn it all down.
I've hurt enough people for a while.
You're the perfect killing machine, your conscience always clean.
Something I will never understand: How can you think that a lie is good enough?
People are worth more then that, We're just making ourselves bitter and unable to love.
No, not again, not this time, not this way.
I will never again see love as just a game.
Maybe I shouldn't blame, After all I did the same that day I played the dating game.