| I know I don’t say this too much but I say it to you right now
|
| Thank you for sharing this lightness of being alive with me
|
| Here in the world of shit
|
| Where every road seems to lead to a dead end
|
| The choices that we make only end in misfortune
|
| Sink low
|
| So low
|
| And now it’s getting cold
|
| So cold
|
| Maybe them things could be worse.
|
| Here we’re dancing on roses
|
| Together behind the wheel of this hearse until the lid closes
|
| Here we’re dancing on roses
|
| Together behind the wheel of this hearse until the lid closes
|
| I know I don’t say this too much but I say to you right now
|
| I’m sorry for dragging you down through the mud
|
| Through the dirt with me
|
| I’d rather have this shit, this misery than a pseudo-fortune
|
| Choices that we made led us to our misfortune
|
| Sink low
|
| So low
|
| And now it’s getting cold
|
| So cold
|
| Maybe them things could be worse.
|
| Here we’re dancing on roses
|
| Together behind the wheel of this hearse until the lid closes
|
| Could it be worse.
|
| Here we’re dancing on roses
|
| Together behind the wheel of this hearse until the lid closes
|
| Oh what a joy to know that we could only sink lower
|
| A ruthless joy to know that it will only get colder
|
| Doesn’t it feel like dancing on roses
|
| It comes to an end when the lid closes
|
| Low
|
| Stay low
|
| Stiff from the cold
|
| Dead cold
|
| Maybe them things could be worse.
|
| Here we’re dancing on roses
|
| Together behind the wheel of this hearse until the lid closes
|
| Could it be worse.
|
| Here we’re dancing roses
|
| Together behind the wheel of this hearse until the lid closes
|
| Until the lid closes
|
| Until the lid closes |