Morbid Fascination
Flower Face
Sixteen, sixteen
Holding out for something
We were clean cut kids in the world alone
We wear our bruises on the best of days
They keep us on the run
Holding hands in the storm 'til the world comes undone
(keeps me on the run)
Got a morbid fascination and we're not afraid to die
Got a morbid fascination and we know we're gonna die