| On the top of the roof he sets his sights,
|
| In the morning light he waits to strike,
|
| Looking for the man with the two-tone shoes.
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| In the empty street that you left last
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| Down in your hall into his address
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| The cameras flash for the front page news
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| Just for today I like my dreams to be real
|
| And when the liars rip the wheel
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| Ill keep my smile under the fade
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| Don’t you worry 'bout your funeral, baby,
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| I felt like nothing when you left these arms
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| Don’t you worry 'bout your funeral, baby,
|
| I’ve got a coffin with your name in flowers.
|
| Been called a black widow all the time
|
| Don’t matter with a heart as cold as mine.
|
| With a red-haired dancer on his lap
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| He’s driving himself to a heart attack
|
| Up the road awaits the death proof car
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| Last thing he sees is a silhouette
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| And the glowing ember of a cigarette
|
| She breaks the glass as he breaths his last
|
| Just for today I like my dreams to be real
|
| And when the liars rip the wheel
|
| Ill keep my smile under the fade
|
| Don’t you worry 'bout your funeral, baby,
|
| I’ve got a coffin with your name in flowers.
|
| Don’t you worry 'bout your funeral, baby,
|
| I’ve got a coffin with your name in flowers.
|
| Been called a black widow all the time
|
| Don’t matter with a heart as cold as mine.
|
| Don’t you worry 'bout your funeral, baby,
|
| I’ve got a coffin with your name in flowers
|
| Don’t you worry 'bout your funeral, baby,
|
| I’ve got a coffin with your name in flowers
|
| Been called a black widow all the time
|
| Don’t matter with a heart as cold as mine. |