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Cyanide

Cyanide

Creeper

Kissing in the acid rain
Heaven on her tongue again
The cutest couple in the halls of Hell, well
She was smoking with her friends
Exhale nicotine and breathe me in
Black denim under pale moonlight
Her skin is milk, so pale and white
Underneath the teenage spell, well
She’s Christina Applegate
Hopelessly beautiful in 1988
She’s my cyanide
I drink her every night
And modern love can feel like suicide
She’s my cyanide
I drink her every night
And modern love can feel like suicide
Holy water for the lady, please
Love is best upon our knees
With grass stains upon our jeans, now
The devil dreams of me and you
Of all the nasty things we do, oh baby
Black lipstick on her coffee cup
Love is envious of lust
She’s cold but still I burn, ah
In a gin and tonic trance
We know sobriety won’t teach the kids to dance
She’s my cyanide
I drink her every night
And modern love can feel like suicide
She’s my cyanide
I drink her every night
And modern love can feel like suicide
So we drive until the road (Runs out)
Or at least until our tears
We count our sins beneath the sun
We know no one forgives the Fugitives of Heaven
And modern love can feel like suicide
She’s my cyanide
I drink her every night
And modern love can feel like suicide
She’s my cyanide
I drink her every night
And modern love can feel like suicide

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