Songwriters: Gheorghiu, Matei Ioan; Diliberto, Daniel Harris; Gheorghiu, Vlad Luca; Safonov, Mikhail A.
Even though you want it
You really shouldn't think about it
Treason is a tar pit
It's so tacky to preserve alone
Can you live like a crow?
There's your answer.
As you pick at my bones with your friends
And their barren tongues won't fill your lungs.
(Love tends to dry in hands that don't try)
And you can find it in a heartbeat, and leave it tangled in the bed sheets
You burn your bridges in the backseat then show up widowed on the high street
Come on say you've done it
Though we don't have to talk about it
The stains left on the carpet
Scream loud enough for all to know
Do your legs fail the floor?
There's your answer
A mistake with a sword
Needs a ransom
But you've got no jazz to have the cash
(Love tends to dry in hands that don't try)
And you can find it in a heartbeat, and leave it tangled in the bed sheets
You burn your bridges in the backseat then show up widowed on the high street
In a coat for assault, desperate and bleak.
He's obviously talking about love, and maybe about how just wanting it for the sex ("And leave it tangled in the bed sheets") isn't a way to live; That it ends out bittersweet.
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