The Hours Songtext

This must be the sole reason for cold stares, so tonuight we are blank canvases screaming for paint. And I know we'll never mix again this way--your fucking gone and I don't care. I never cared much for faces, and all these traitors make the best of friends. Like puddles and popsicle sticks rotting in the mud, my bridges are burnt. For the last time, goodbye, bloodsuckers