The sound of a thousand voices screaming
I'll lay it down on the bed
All my fears from in my head
And I'll outline plans and review thoughts
But I can tell you're drifting off...
Chorus:
And it'd all be cured without dread
By a laughing bullet through the head
Shot at me from a pistol
Your red rose - or your thorn and a thistle
I can hear your heart beating
The sound of a thousand nightmares speaking
So now I'll lay it on the floor
Or just throw you out the door
All my chances: I abuse my verbs
Entangle you inside my words
Chorus:
And it'd all be cured without dread
By a laughing bullet through the head
Shot at me from a pistol
Your red rose - or your thorn and a thistle
It'd all be cured and all be healed
We'd never know which of us screamed
It'd all be cured all be healed
We'd never know which of us dreamed...
Fire away, fire away
In our lovely tete-a-tete
A bullet through the rose
Through a thorn
Through a thistle and we mourn
Chorus:
And it'd all be cured without dread
By a laughing bullet through the head
Shot at me from a pistol
Your red rose - or your thorn and a thistle
Laughing bullet in the head
A rose - a thistle instead
A thorn through the head
Through the rose
Through the thistle
And we mourn