| In her youth, she made tons of pence
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| Ghost penning songs for big hair aristocrats
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| Now she lies in a plush, velvet bed
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| Shaped like a coffin and filled with bats
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| And she is pale and I am smitten
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| And in the moonlight we both still like
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| The smell of anything night blooming
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| And she bites through the necks like Ginsu
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| My sweet sweet heartkiller
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| My sweet sweet heartkiller
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| My sweet sweet heartkiller
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| My sweet sweet heartkiller
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| Next to walls that jut from the earth
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| Like frozen trajectories of superheroes
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| We nibble and jest about things
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| That drain and the taste of lust
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| And she is over here and I am over there
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| And the unlucky dark cloud is in the middle
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| We like to time ourselves, we like to watch ourselves
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| And her winks cut through me like a Ginsu
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| My sweet sweet heartkiller
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| My sweet sweet heartkiller
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| My sweet sweet heartkiller
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| My sweet sweet heartkiller
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| And everything’s good and everything’s fine
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| And everything’s bitter like sweet things should be
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| When I’m sinking my teeth into her
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| My sweet heartkiller
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| My so sweet heartkiller
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| My so sweet heartkiller
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| My so sweet heartkiller
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| My sweet sweet heartkiller |