Just a dime store poet, keeping pace, talking his face blue.
Two dollar store tramps, to get a glance, a new chance at you.
Walk passed the dance floor.
It’s always been a dear friend of mine.
Cut calls and concubines.
Dancing in four four time.
“Hey Mr.”, The bellman says, “I can only recall this nice hotel I said.”
So he replies, “Then how do you manage?”
I dodge the blast, and apologize for collateral damage.
In love, I’ve been a mercenary, but I never leave my post when the cash runs out.
I want to make you quiver.
Make your back bone shiver.
Hey kid, take the stage and deliver.
“Hey Mr,” The bellman says, “I can only recall this nice hotel I said.”
So he replies, “Then how do you manage?”
I dodge the blast, and apologize for collateral damage.
How does it feel to stand on the very stones that ran with your parent’s blood?
Do you feel sad? Full of rage? Or does that outfit help bury your feelings?
I see your true self.
You’re truly an extraordinary Specimen, I look forward to breaking you.
I dodge the blast, and apologize for collateral damage
“Hey Mr,” The bellman says, “I can only recall this nice hotel I said.”
So he replies, “Then how do you manage?”
I dodge the blast, and apologize for collateral damage.
Hey Mr, The bellman says, “I can only recall this nice hotel I said.”
So he replies, “Then how do you manage?”
I dodge the blast, and apologize for collateral damage.
—————–
Mercenary
Panic! At The Disco
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