I could give you a dozen fresh, cut, pink, or red, or white
I wonder if they knew what they would grow to become
I could give you a dozen fresh cut pink or red or white
I wonder if they knew what they would grow to become
Become, become, become, become
Be-be-become
Become, become, become, become
Be-be-become
You'll have to cut it down and burn me into splinters
Or I'll unwrap the string that was me, from your finger
And I'll hang you in your bedroom burial ground
There is a taste for blood
And it's something deep inside
There is a taste for blood
And it's deep inside
Become, become, become, become
Be-be-become
Become, become, become, become
Be-be-become
I don't ever want God to hear our screams
And mistake them for prayers
And you know I'm loaded, but not which chamber
Touch me and I'll go click, click, click, click, click
Click, click, click, click, click
Click, click, click, click, click
There is a taste for blood
And it's something deep inside
There is a taste for blood
And it's deep inside
Become, become, become, become
Be-be-become
Become, become, become, become
Be-be-become
And you know I'm loaded, but not which chamber
Touch me and I'll go click, click, click, click, click
Click, click, click, click, click
Click, click, click, click, click
I'm born villain, don't pretend to be a victim
I'm born villain, don't pretend to be a victim
I'm born villain, don't pretend to be a victim
I'm born villain, don't pretend to be a victim
I'm born villain, don't pretend to be a victim
I'm born villain, don't pretend to be a victim
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
