Bloody Mary

This the shorter story of your fingers on a glass of coke. Your dirty smile and my dirty smoke. I don't know why but we are here wasting time, when the glass broke, you didn't mind. Your city is tattooed on your face and you only wish to go. But I'll go on burning the days of Bloody Mary to her soul And her words, her words, her words... This is the shorter story of the gold in your golden hair, sometimes scared and sometimes fair. This is the shorter story of your killing down the street. We'll never more be you and me. It was ending from the beggining but we never said goodbye. But I'll go on burning the days of Bloody Mary to her soul And her words, her words, her bloody words...