He lives in a box full of bomb
Making catastrophe
A world of moving lines
There's not a lot of room for our love in his house
So we make it at mine
And when he comes, his heart beat stops
Before he leaves, he plants explosives in my music box
I thought I could finger paint a liquid future
A raindrop shot in the dark
But I've got a lot of secrets to file in a thriving pile
Of what is breaking my heart
And when he comes, his heart beat stops
Before he leaves, he plants explosives in my music box
Slowly, I'll walk away from the crime scene
And soon my flesh will return from bright green
Back to a primary color
I'll bury the pigment of the accidental bedroom I love you
'Til I become a paler shade with a hand grenade
That I'm throwing back at you