[00:32.10]My knuckles are bleeding on your front door
[00:38.70]And these flowers are wilting in the rain
[00:49.11]They were for you and now they are for no one
[00:52.89]They are irrelevant as mercenaries in times of peace
[00:59.52]They are smoke twisting off the lips of a movie star
[01:35.82]Here is a boy with paper skin
[01:38.40]Who longs to touch the girl of broken glass
[01:43.59]She loves it when he wears his skin like that
[01:59.13]In tatters