If we cut out the badWell then we d have nothing leftLike I cut up your mouthThe night I stuffed it all inAnd you lied to the AngelSaid I stabbed you to deathIf we go at the same timeThey ll clean up the messI lost my headYou couldn t comeThis lust to my brain almost feels like a gunWatched you bite into the bottleWatched me kick out the chairLet you chew up the glassAnd laughed as you just hung thereI have thought of rose petals mostly perfect and pureThen I thought of your petalsAnd the abuse they ve been throughI lost my headYou couldn t comeThis lust to my brain almost feels like a gunYou lost your headI couldn t comeThis lust to my brain almost feels like a gunWhoa whoaI told the angelsCant stay in heavenI asked the devilIf we cut out the bad well then we d have nothing leftLike I cut up your angelsYeah you stabbed me to deathI lost my headYou couldn t comeThis lust to my brain almost feels like a gunYou lost your headI couldn t comeThis lust to my brain almost feels like a gun

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