| This head is haunted by a chorus in the sky
|
| The voices aren’t mine
|
| I kiss the darkness as I see the whites of their eyes
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| They’re crawling up my spine
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| They bloom at midnight in the middle of the moonlight
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| Strike a match!
|
| Light the chandelier!
|
| This bedroom is a ballroom now
|
| Strike the band and make the dead dance
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| This room is filled with corpses in costumes
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| My guests dress in black and blue
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| I raise a toast to the few
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| The orchids are in bloom
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| There’s a dead note in the choir of the garden
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| The sun will kiss the gloom
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| The warden’s giving pardons soon
|
| Strike a match!
|
| Light the chandelier!
|
| This bedroom is a ballroom now
|
| Strike the band and make the dead dance
|
| This room is filled with corpses in costumes
|
| Strike the band and make the dead dance
|
| (I kiss the darkness as I see the whites of their eyes)
|
| Strike the band and dance, dance.
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| «This is your last night.
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| Do you believe in what you write?
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| We open the sky and we hope you see light.»
|
| Strike a match!
|
| Light the chandelier!
|
| This bedroom is a ballroom now
|
| Strike the band and make the dead dance
|
| This room is filled with corpses in costumes
|
| Strike t 11cc
|
| he band and make the dead dance
|
| (I kiss the darkness as I see the whites of their eyes)
|
| Strike the band and dance, dance
|
| (This room is filled with corpses in costumes) |