paint black the card when you put it at my place.
burn away the scar and from my memory erase like in the morning when the dreams are gone.

in a history of words there's bound to be some lies.
thats why we work in motion, breaking hearts with severed ties.
now just tell me who's side you're on.
when teenage fucking angst meets with adult fucking rage and it all comes together on a tired fucking stage.

and all we've got left is this song.
of all the bleeding hearts in all the fucking towns who'd know it'd be our own that brings us down.
send a letter once you've gone.
we cut our teeth on the road. face blown red by the wind.
searching for something to hold.
getting knocked down, picked ourselves up again.
we're bringing it back soaked in blood.
holding our heads in our hands.
nursing continental wounds and praying for some good friends.

so we see its not all its meant to be.
we took the lies for granted and now its plain to see that in the end we all were wrong.
broke and beaten, this highways fucking cold.
a million miles from nowhere and the last soul has been sold.
we should have known this all along.

miss the sound of the suburbs and the phone that speaks your name.
words lost on you.

now we're down to our last bit of luck, caution blown away by the wind.
all because we gave a fuck and never wanted to end.
we're bringing it back soaked in blood.
holding our fucking heads in our hands.
nursing continental wounds and praying for some good friends.
praying for some short ends.