Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song A Fever You Can't Sweat Out Medley (The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide Is Press Coverage / Camisado / But It's Better If You Do), artist - Panic! At The Disco. Album song All My Friends We're Glorious: Death of a Bachelor Tour Live, in the genre Иностранный рок
Date of issue: 14.12.2017
Record label: Fueled By Ramen
Song language: English
A Fever You Can't Sweat Out Medley (The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide Is Press Coverage / Camisado / But It's Better If You Do) |
Sit tight, I’m going to need you to keep time |
Come on, just snap, snap, snap your fingers for me |
Good, good, now we’re making some progress |
Come on, just tap, tap, tap your toes to the beat |
And I believe this may call for a proper introduction, and well |
Don’t you see? |
I’m the narrator, and this is just the prologue |
Swear to shake it up, if you swear to listen |
Oh, we’re still so young, desperate for attention |
I aim to be your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives |
Swear to shake it up, if you swear to listen |
Oh, we’re still so young, desperate for attention |
I aim to be your eyes |
This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor |
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital |
It’s not so pleasant and it’s not so conventional |
It sure as hell ain’t normal but we deal, we deal |
The anesthetic never set in and I’m wondering where |
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in |
No it’s not so pleasant and it’s not so conventional |
And it sure as hell ain’t normal but we deal, we deal |
You’re a regular decorated emergency |
You’re a regular decorated emergency |
Can’t take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid |
Sit back, relax, sit back, relapse again |
Can’t take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid |
Just sit back, just sit back |
Sit back, sit back, relax, relapse |
Sit back, sit back, woah |
Can’t take the kid out of the fight |
The I.V. |
and your hospital bed |
This was no accident |
This was a therapeutic chain of events |
Now I’m of consenting age |
To be forgetting you in a cabaret somewhere |
Downtown where a burlesque queen |
May even ask my name |
As she sheds her skin on stage |
I’m seated and sweating to a dance song |
On the club’s P. A |
The strip joint veteran sits two away |
Smirking between dignified sips of his dignified |
Peach and lime daiquiri |
And isn’t this exactly where you’d like me? |
I’m exactly where you’d like me, you know |
Praying for love in a lap dance |
And paying in naivety? |
Oh, isn’t this exactly where you’d like me? |
I’m exactly where you’d like me, you know |
Praying for love in a lap dance, oh |
But, but I’m afraid that I |
Well, I may have faked it |
And I wouldn’t be caught dead |
D-dead, d-dead, d-dead in this place |
Well, I’m afraid that I |
That’s right |
Well, I may have faked it |
And I wouldn’t be caught dead in this place |
(Swear to shake it up, you swear to listen |
Swear to shake it up, you swear to listen |
Swear to shake it up, you swear to listen |
Swear to shake it up, swear to shake it up) |
La-da-da-da, da-da-da-da-da, da-da-da |
La-da-da-da, da-da-da-da-da |
La-da-da-da, da-da-da-da-da, da-da-da |
La-da-da-da, da-da-da-da-da |