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If I retreat
Words, wars, and symphonies
Make room we're taking over here
So the galantine
Cold and alone, it suits you well
You won't find me perching here again

Before they serve you well

Money Written By Machines"
Stop stalling, make a name for yourself.
Boy you better put that pen to paper and charm your way out.
If you talk you better walk you better back your shit up
With more than good hooks while you're all under the gun

Start talking "a sensationalist"
Oh he's slightly clever to just a certain extent

She paints her fingers with a close precision
He starts to notice empty bottles of gin
And takes a moment to assess the sin
She's paid for

A lone speaker in a conversation
Her words are swimming through his ears again
There's nothing wrong with just a taste

Watch your mouth
Oh, oh, oh
Because your speech is slurred enough
That you just might swallow your tongue
I'm sure you'd want, want to give up the ghost
With just a little more poise than that

Or was it God who chokes

Is there a heart inside the night
I can feel its final strike
The beat goes dry, and the spirit dies
Ohhhhh
I wanna dig this tinsletown until its six feet underground
Its safe to say, that timing is everything (everything)

I wanna be free, i wanna be loved, i wanna be more than your thinkin of