Texty:
The Birthday Massacre Violet

Her fabulous invention What strange imagination shown Her glorious intentions A sea of doubt beneath her own You're not the first to dream this, little

I think my friend said, "I hear footsteps" I wore my black and white dress to the Birthday massacre, birthday massacre, birthday I wore my black and white

It's getting late, it all just wanes and pales And fades away if we just want It too much and what a shame if all There is, is all that's gone away There

And boys are so cold They speak without meaning The only time they talk is in their sleep And girls are a bore Their touch without feeling Their secret

selfish need for something more Claws in vain at closing doors Scarring faces once adored Tracing circles in the violet prison For violet visions And

Five glasses changed my mind Seems like the ticking hands are taking their time I guess I've been at home for longer than it takes to unwind So slap me

need for something more, Claws in vain at closing doors. Scarring faces once adored. Tracing circles in the violet prison, for violet visions. And