And I have killed you again
With gun, with knife, doesn’t matter.
Three-sixty tons of pain
Sure became the town’s chatter.
You once had a sweet voice
And you had me blind folded for good
Today, you leave me with no choice
But to break the stair on which you stood.
So then I put your head through the wall
And the music went on and on
On the ground, I saw your blood fall
Once again, that old lover was gone.
But I wait for you to open your eyes
For you always do, and my heart
Is a child again, swinging on love’s high
We can’t seem to stay apart.
Yet this story’s a broken mess
And I have my weapon ready anyway
All this action is a bouquet of stress
But I can fight you every second day.
So when your eyes open again
It will be three-sixty-one
And once again, I’ll cut through the chain
And feed you to the sun.
