| It’s getting late
|
| In these dead dog days
|
| I need lemonade
|
| For this bitter shot of lecture
|
| My mechanical mates
|
| They can’t see straight
|
| But I know I’m stained
|
| I was fine before I met you
|
| Be yours, be yours
|
| Fine lines with which I’ll cross in time
|
| Be yours, be yours
|
| Fine lines with which I’ll cross in time
|
| When all the world, is gone
|
| I’m back to my killing days
|
| I apologise I’m a little late
|
| When it’s over, (be yours)
|
| I’ll be your lemonade
|
| I’m in my phantom phase
|
| Locking up my borders like the U.S.A
|
| When it’s over, (be yours)
|
| I’ll be your lemonade
|
| I’m the feminine type
|
| The bad boys don’t like
|
| I can feel the night she
|
| Sirens me to fake procreate
|
| With a neck placed kiss
|
| Drawn from my acid lips
|
| And a slide of the hips I
|
| I’m a phoenix under your thighs
|
| Be yours, be yours
|
| Fine lines with which I’ll cross in time
|
| Be yours, be yours
|
| Fine lines with which I’ll cross in time
|
| When all the world, is gone
|
| I’m back to my killing days
|
| I apologise I’m a little late
|
| When it’s over, (be yours)
|
| I’ll be your lemonade
|
| I’m in my phantom phase
|
| Locking up my borders like the U.S.A
|
| When it’s over, (be yours)
|
| I’ll be your lemonade
|
| Ah, ah, ah, ah
|
| I’ll be your lemonade
|
| (Be yours)
|
| I’ll be your lemonade |