Tell me your name but only the first when we get home
There’s a diamond ring in a pile of dirt where we come from
And we should have known better x 2
Here comes another bomb scare what are we gonna do
The internets a chain saw that kills everything that moves
There’s trouble with our contacts they’re covered with too much blood
There’s trouble with the seasons changing
Chorus
There’s turrets on the rooftop they’re raising the rebel flag
There’s parties on the side streets. They’re reading from chainmail bags.
They’re wrapping up a cold case colder than winter gloves
There’s trouble with the seasons changing
Tired of hearing there’s no heaven…
Chorus
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