Now as the rain falls like shattered pieces of glass from the sky,
we bleed like water colors and drunken pastels down the stairways.
And I ask myself, why do I still pray?
When will it end? And who fucking cares?
I swear to God I did what I could.
I practically begged you, I pretended everything was fine.
A soul sacrifice, an American nightmare.
I’d rather be dead.
Don’t rain on my parade, it’s gonna glow in the dark.
I like it better when you can’t keep warm.
Don’t ruin a perfect thing, a perfect thing.
The boy on the blue moon hears a nightmare in his head.