Текст песни The Bacchanal Affair - It Dies Today

Tonight, we're drunk upon our nostalgia!
So raise a glass to the black maria!
Though laughter seems to soothe the pain!
Of adoring all that I violate!

I'm sick to death by the irony and all the lies that we create!
When we're feigning every red-letter day!

The chemicals aid in our neglect
Feigning our adoration
Destined, it seems, for this disease, becoming all I loathed
Feigning our adoration

Dissembling passion, our foreplay to debauchery!
A perfume of zinfandel and coffin nails intoxicates!
Fair, Judas goat— now you've got your sheep!

I'm sick to death by the irony and all the lies that we create!
When we're feigning every red-letter day!

The chemicals aid in our neglect
Feigning our adoration
Destined, it seems, for this disease, becoming all I loathed
Feigning our adoration!

Track marks and a trail of hearts will guide you home
There is a bleak horizon everywhere I roam
Track marks and a trail of hearts will guide you home
There is a bleak horizon everywhere I roam

The chemicals aid in our neglect
Feigning our adoration
Destined, it seems, for this disease, becoming all I loathed
Feigning our adoration!

Track marks and a trail of hearts will guide you home
There is a bleak horizon everywhere I roam
Track marks and a trail of hearts will guide you home
There is a bleak horizon everywhere I roam