This is not love
This is not even worth a point of view
In echo park, i
Pause for effect and whisper ‘who are you?’
They crawl out of their holes for me
And i die: you die
Hear them laugh, watch them turn on me
And i die: you die
See my scars, they call me such things
Tear me, tear me, tear me
Now i have your names
Screaming ‘you will suffer’ and ‘you’re all too late’
Now i feel young
Does everything stop when the old dame fails?
They crawl out of their holes for me
And i die: you die
Hear them laugh, watch them turn on me
And i die: you die
See my scars, they call me such things
Tear me, tear me, tear me
But i’m still frightened by the telephone