Оригинален текст
I want to be dead with my friends,
I want to be dead with my friends,
Wide-eyed, brilliant, (x)
I want to be dead with my friends.
When the iron sharpens the iron.
I want to be dead with my friends
(Mother load, unforgettable hand?)
When boredom sees the beating of our purple hearts, Against this,
Even gods fight violently in vain,
What chance could we have stood?
We're the last of the lost,
But now we're the first of the fashionably late.|
Loved ones decompose
You'll dance around their bones
Most of us are holy ghosts
All of us are holy ghosts
We made the scene when we made a scene
And though it was brief,
It meant everything.
Oh what a pity,
Now they're bound to make us saints.
Against this, even (boys) fight violently in vain,
What chance could we have stood?
We're the last of the lost,
But now we're the first of the fashionably late.
I refuse to be the only man put to rest in a mass grave.
You were all there with me.