If we cut out the bad
Well then we'd have nothing left
Like I cut up your mouth
The night I stuffed it all in
And you lied to the angels
Said I stabbed you to death
If we go at the same time
They'll clean up the mess

I lost my head
You couldn't come
This loss to my brain almost feels like a gun

Watched you bite into the bottle
Watched me kick out the chair
Let you chew up the glass
And laughed at you just hung there
I have thought of rose petals mostly perfect and pure
Then I thought of your petals
And the abuse they've been through

I lost my head
You couldn't come
This loss to my brain almost feels like a gun
You lost your head
I couldn't come
This loss to my brain almost feels like a gun
Whoa whoa

I told the angels
Can't stay in heaven
I asked the devil
If we cut out the bad well then we'd have nothing left
Like I cut up your angels
Yeah you stabbed me to death

I lost my head
You couldn't come
This loss to my brain almost feels like a gun
You lost your head
I couldn't come
This loss to my brain almost feels just like a gun

Writer : MCCRACKEN, ROBERT C./STEINECKERT, BRANDEN/HOWARD, JEPH
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing