AU. FD. HP.

Someone's daughter your son
Half-dressed in the backseat
Of a beat-up Escort
Right after they first meet
Crumpled wads of cash are
Spilling out her pockets
As he rips it off her
He begins to holler
Someone fetch a priest
The full moon's at its peak
The curtains close its now a dream
And so discreet
The tinted windows bar the scene
From wandering eyes
The knife is drawn
The blood is spawned
It drips and drips and
Crimson carpet covers seats
Where stains would seem to be
And offering a smile
The romantic goes wild
And moonbeams chase the night into the day
While children merely play
And all the manic thinks is
AUFDHP
AUFDHP



Credits
Writer(s): Trey Snyder
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link