| I don’t want to be a waste
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| I’m wasted. |
| I’m wasting away
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| While I’m out here making history, you’re making love
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| To demons with no idea what horns have done
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| But I don’t care. |
| no, I don’t care
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| I’ll die with a smile so my widow gets jealous
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| The ones that observed are the worst story tellers
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| And lust is pulling my chair from under me
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| Well it seems like the amorous man has prostitute-like commitment again
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| And it feels like my eager hands are searching for that promiscuous skin
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| Don’t mock me by existing
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| My ambition went from handsome as hell straight to ugly as sin
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| But I don’t care, why should I care?
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| So fuck making love, see I’d rather make history
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| I’d prefer a monument over the kiss of thee
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| The world is pulling the rug from under me
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| Well it seems like the amorous man has prostitute-like commitment again
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| And it feels like my eager hands are searching for that promiscuous skin
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| They say home is where the heart is
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| So where do you keep your bed?
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| And if home is where the heart is
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| Then what do I do with this empty chest?
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| They say home is where the heart is
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| So where do you keep your bed?
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| And if home is where the heart is
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| It’s a crying shame we can’t afford the rent
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| I’ll stay home where the heart is
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| While you better yourself in bed
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| You’ll stay out with the hardest piece of him
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| Between the both of your legs
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| I’d rather be homeless
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| Than smelling his scent in our bed
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| There’s no such thing as heartache, you idiot
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| I’ll stay home where the heart is
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| While you better yourself in bed
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| There’s no such thing as heartache, you idiot
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| It’s all inside your head |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dreamers Disease, artist - letlive.. Album song The Blackest Beautiful, in the genre Пост-хардкор