Christmas Island
The radio plays the new Top 40
To the two of us, fucked up and horny
We park in back of our high school
Hands tugging blindly at belt loops
First firebombing lights up our figures
Our breath still frozen on the windows
Trigger finger pinched on your waistline
I've never dreamed of a more perfect way to die
The radio plays its final broadcast
An air raid siren; a distant plane crash
You drive me back to my dad's house
My fingertips on your back
How'd I let you leave without a final squeeze
A breath drawn tight and no mess to leave
But I'm shaking still while you pull out
My eyes are dry while my eardrums bleed
Before the bombs started to fall
You said you'd give me a call
When you got home safe
Well it's been six days
And my phone stays silent
I had something to tell
Before they blew us all to hell
And it's that I'm yours
And I'll be waiting for you on
Detroit, Christmas Island
A man came in black with a note to carry
Sixes on the back, it was a page from your diary
Tale of how I came with an awkward charm
But it ends before a sentence asking will this last long?
I shout, "Bring her back, I've gotta know where her love's at,"
The city dead to rotting and a pain like a heart attack
Fills me with the heat of the wall of flame
That I see nightly in my dreams coming to take you away
Before the bombs started to fall
You said you'd give me a call
When you got home safe
Well it's been six days
And my phone stays silent
I had something to tell
Before they blew us all to hell
And it's that I'm yours
And I'll be waiting for you on
Detroit, Christmas Island
They pile the dead high in this town
And wonder why I linger around
My gas mask on and a note in my pocket
Hope I never see the face I wrote it for
I hope I never have to leave it at a dead girl's door
Before the bombs started to fall
You said you'd give me a call
When you got home safe
Well it's been six days
And my phone stays silent
I had something to tell
Before they blew us all to hell
And it's that I'm yours
And I'll be waiting for you on
Detroit, Christmas Island
Yeah, I'm yours
And I'll be waiting for you on
Detroit, Christmas Island
To the two of us, fucked up and horny
We park in back of our high school
Hands tugging blindly at belt loops
First firebombing lights up our figures
Our breath still frozen on the windows
Trigger finger pinched on your waistline
I've never dreamed of a more perfect way to die
The radio plays its final broadcast
An air raid siren; a distant plane crash
You drive me back to my dad's house
My fingertips on your back
How'd I let you leave without a final squeeze
A breath drawn tight and no mess to leave
But I'm shaking still while you pull out
My eyes are dry while my eardrums bleed
Before the bombs started to fall
You said you'd give me a call
When you got home safe
Well it's been six days
And my phone stays silent
I had something to tell
Before they blew us all to hell
And it's that I'm yours
And I'll be waiting for you on
Detroit, Christmas Island
A man came in black with a note to carry
Sixes on the back, it was a page from your diary
Tale of how I came with an awkward charm
But it ends before a sentence asking will this last long?
I shout, "Bring her back, I've gotta know where her love's at,"
The city dead to rotting and a pain like a heart attack
Fills me with the heat of the wall of flame
That I see nightly in my dreams coming to take you away
Before the bombs started to fall
You said you'd give me a call
When you got home safe
Well it's been six days
And my phone stays silent
I had something to tell
Before they blew us all to hell
And it's that I'm yours
And I'll be waiting for you on
Detroit, Christmas Island
They pile the dead high in this town
And wonder why I linger around
My gas mask on and a note in my pocket
Hope I never see the face I wrote it for
I hope I never have to leave it at a dead girl's door
Before the bombs started to fall
You said you'd give me a call
When you got home safe
Well it's been six days
And my phone stays silent
I had something to tell
Before they blew us all to hell
And it's that I'm yours
And I'll be waiting for you on
Detroit, Christmas Island
Yeah, I'm yours
And I'll be waiting for you on
Detroit, Christmas Island
Credits
Writer(s): Stephen Jenkins, David Daniel Lane, David Andrew Milne, Matthew Vehl, Arthur David Stabolidis
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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