Оригинален текст
Burn the instructions or plague the inventor?
Quick, easy, and painless
Im a careless romantic
Wandering the streets
Luring strangers in the dark
If they follow in my footsteps
Then Ill love them all blind
If you want to make a scene
Then youve gotta make a scene
Ill put my hands on you
You put your hands on me
If you want to make a scene
I wasnt looking for trouble
But trouble found me
You fucked with the wrong son of a bitch.
I caught you staring its not your fault
I killed the lights cause I saw it all
I caught you staring its not your fault
I kissed your lips but not for too long
Tick tock, tick tock;
the hour is up
Told to be anxious
Youre a bit out of line
Sew it up like every other time
Un-amused at the table by the bedroom
Theyre all mine
If you want to make a scene
Then youve gotta make a scene
You fucked with the wrong son of a bitch
You put your hands on me
Ill put my hands on you
You fucked with the wrong son of a bitch
Sew it up like every other time
So in love like every other time
The needle and thread make me shiver
The red on your hands spells out martyr
(I caught you staring its not your fault)
I killed the lights cause I saw it all
(I caught you staring its not your fault)
I swear to God I watched you fall
Your perfect picture left its mark
I kissed your lips but not for too long