[00:30.03]My knuckles are bleeding on your front door and these flowers are wilting in the rain
[01:03.15]They were for you and now they are for no one
[01:06.84]They are irrelevant as mercenaries in times of peace
[01:40.17]They are smoke twisting off the lips of a movie star
[01:46.02]Here is a boy with paper skin who longs to touch the girl of broken glass
[02:13.23]She loves it when he wears his skin like that
[02:26.22]In tatters