Rory Webley — Something Super Sweet

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Текст Rory Webley — Something Super Sweet

You keep telling me that we can fix this
But we can’t, the scalpel in your hand
Is only gonna cut me again
And I don’t wanna take that chance
Some things, they just don’t last
You can’t get a prescription for that
Quit shoving these sugar pills down my throat
‘Cause I’m starting to choke

Stop, don’t resuscitate
Please don’t, don’t hesitate
Just let it die, we’ve had our time
We’ll be alright

But then you give me ten CC’s of something super sweet
Yeah, you put me to sleep
I’m getting drowsy, my eyelids are getting heavy
Kiss me on the cheek, then you’re telling me
Countdown from ten
Ten, nine, eight
Seven, six
Five-four-three-two, one

When you rip my heart out, please put it back when you’re done
I’m too young for this open-heart surgery
There’s stuffing in the place where my heart’s meant to be
Why me?

You keep telling me that we’ll get past this
But we’re never gonna last
So just quit blasting me with your electro-therapy
And let’s move past this
These things, they come alive in a flash
Sometimes they die just as fast
Didn’t Frankenstein teach you anything?
Don’t revive dead things

Stop, don’t resuscitate
Please don’t, don’t hesitate
Just let it die, we’ve had our time
We’ll be alright

But then you give me ten CC’s of something super sweet
Yeah, you put me to sleep
I’m getting drowsy, my eyelids are getting heavy
Kiss me on the cheek, then you’re telling me
Countdown from ten
Ten, nine, eight
Seven, six
Five-four-three-two, one

When you rip my heart out, please put it back when you’re done
I’m too young for this open-heart surgery
There’s stuffing in the place where my heart’s meant to be
Why me?

Now I’m coming down from my high
And something just doesn’t feel right
Yeah, the anaesthetic’s wearing off
And I’m starting to feel what I’ve lost
There’s stuffing in the place where my heart was

But then you give me ten CC’s of something super sweet
Yeah, you put me to sleep
I’m getting drowsy, my eyelids are getting heavy
Kiss me on the cheek, then you’re telling me
Countdown from ten
Ten, nine, eight
Seven, six
Five-four-three-two, one

When you rip my heart out, please put it back when you’re done
I’m too young for this open-heart surgery
There’s stuffing in the place where my heart’s meant to be
Why me?