Priscilla Brooke
Lee sings...
The letter that she wrote, the letter he wrote, the lies that they told, with each hour it gives me a different story. War, despite the white flag. Oh my dear, I fear I have become a burden. Is it raining outside your window? It’s pouring here, but the rain it never reaches the floor. Maybe this miracle made of gold was all a trick. Scrap the plans that we made; break the ribbon; breakdown. Leave a message for your victims. Bang bang.
Luke sings...
To my ex-love, I leave you: a letter that she wrote. Greeted by angels, but she was waiting for you. Please surrender. My knives are blunt. She woke to the bluest of the blue, and left red like your torn up diaries. There are vacancies on death row. She walks from her deadened cells. The sky has been painted for you.
There are vacancies on death row. She walks from her deadene
the lies that they told, with each hour it gives me a different story. War, despite the white flag. Oh my dear, I fear I have become a burden. Is it raining outside your window? It’s pouring here, but the rain it never reaches the floor. Maybe this miracle made of gold was all a trick. Scrap the plans that we made; break the ribbon; breakdown. Leave a message for your victims. Bang bang.
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