dig a grave, 
and fill it with the bodies, 
come on now baby, 
do you think you can stop me? 
hey, hey, 
I'm not okay 

take a bottle down, 
drain it of its whiskey, 
stumble around, 
I'm feeling sick and I'm tipsy, 
I can't stand the sound, 
cursing like a gypsy, 
girl you're my favorite noun, 
let me see your hips swing 

dance like you're gonna die, 
you said I'm just your type of guy, 
it could've been perfect, 
but we ran out of time 

take a bullet now, 
load it in the chamber, 
the sweet loving smell, 
of steel and gun powder, 
I tried to save it, 
but its beyond my power, 
that sweet scent you wear, 
is now turning sour