| With fast fists of furious thunder
|
| You chop 'em down with the side of your glass
|
| Stick of dynamite for believers
|
| You’re just a breath away and you’re ready to blast
|
| Into the shadow again
|
| Into the shadow again
|
| No one said it would feel this good
|
| With the warmth of smoke on your lungs
|
| And the taste of blood on your tongue
|
| No one said it would feel this good
|
| Give it away
|
| Don’t give it away
|
| You turn it on for believers
|
| You turn it on for the fame
|
| Trigger happy eight millimetres
|
| Calling out your name
|
| Into the shadow again
|
| Into the shadow again
|
| No one said it would feel this good
|
| With the warmth of smoke on your lungs
|
| And the taste of blood on your tongue
|
| No one said it would feel this good
|
| Give it away
|
| Don’t give it away
|
| Cut it off when I stop breathing
|
| And 2029 comes creeping
|
| Just when you thought it was cold
|
| Still calling out your name
|
| Just when you thought it was cold
|
| Still calling out your name
|
| No one said it would feel this good
|
| With the warmth of smoke on your lungs
|
| And the taste of blood on your tongue
|
| No one said it would feel this good
|
| Give it away
|
| Don’t give it away |