Boy Division

(альбом: Conventional Weapons - 2013)

If all my enemies threw a party, would you light the candles?
Would you drink the wine, while watching television?
Watch the animals, all the tragedies
Sell your arteries, and buy my casket gown
It better be black, it better be tight
It better be just my size
I'm stalking these metro malls and airport halls
And all these schoolgirls

I'm not asking, you're not telling
He's not dead, he only looks that

Way out nowhere, take me out there
Far away and save me from my
Self-destruction, hopeless for you
Sing a song for California

I buy my enemies rope to hang me, and the knives to gang me
You can watch them stab me, on your television
Stalk the halls, because the bathroom walls
Would have a lot to say, about the lines you're putting down
It better be white, it better be cut
It better be just my size
Until my capillaries burst of boredom
I'll be waiting

I'm not laughing, you're not joking
I'm not dead, I only dress that

Way out nowhere, take me out there
Far away, and save me from my
Self-destruction, hopeless for you
Sing a song for California

Wherever you are, wherever you are
Whoever you are, whoever you are, la la la la!

'Cause we got the bomb, we got the bomb, let's go!
We got the bomb, we got the bomb, let's go!
We got the bomb, we got the bomb, let's go!
We got the bomb, we got the bomb, let's go!

Way out nowhere, take me out there
Far away, and save me from my
Self-destruction, hopeless for ya
Say a prayer for California

We got the bomb!
We got the bomb!
We got the bomb!
We got the bomb!