| If I retreat
|
| Words, wars, and symphonies
|
| Make room we’re taking over here
|
| And you’re the galentine
|
| Cold and alone, it suits you well
|
| You won’t find me perching here again
|
| May your feet serve you well,
|
| And the rest be sent to hell
|
| Where they always have belonged
|
| Cold hearts brew colder songs
|
| Fate will play us out
|
| With a song of pure romance
|
| So stomp your feet and clap your hands…
|
| Let’s kill tonight!
|
| Kill tonight!
|
| Show them all you’re not the ordinary type
|
| Let’s kill tonight!
|
| Kill tonight!
|
| Show them all you’re not the ordinary type
|
| Let’s kill tonight!
|
| May your feet serve you well,
|
| And the rest be sent to hell
|
| Where they always have belonged
|
| Cold hearts brew colder songs
|
| Fate will play us out
|
| With a song of pure romance
|
| Stomp your feet and clap your hands…
|
| Let’s kill tonight!
|
| Kill tonight!
|
| Show them all you’re not the ordinary type
|
| Let’s kill tonight!
|
| Kill tonight!
|
| Show them all you’re not the ordinary type
|
| Let’s kill tonight!
|
| Kill tonight!
|
| Show them all you’re not the ordinary type
|
| Let’s kill tonight!
|
| Kill tonight!
|
| Show them all you’re not the ordinary type
|
| Let’s kill tonight!
|
| (WHOA…) |