Texty: Funeral For A Friend. Your History Is Mine: 2002-2009. Roses For The Dead.

:
Just to say we're sorry,
For the black eyes and bleeding lips.
When it's hard to forget
How many lies we've told.

Oh, how we go,
Before I said goodbye.
So let's scrape our knees on the playground.

It's not your fault,
You feel okay.
It's too late in the day.
It's not your fault,
You feel betrayed.
You can't come out to play.

I never listened to a word you never said.
I never listened to a word you never said.

Wasting the hours now,
We're all suckers for tragedies.
We'll start things over again,
And you'll bring us to our knees.

When sunrise comes,
And the story will sell,
There'll be a hundred papers,
So we'll fight all you want.

It's not your fault,
You feel okay.
It's too late in the day.
It's not your fault,
You feel betrayed.
You can't come out to play.

I never listened to a word you never said.
I never listened to a word you never said.

So raise your hands up high
And let this rain pour.
So raise your hands up high
And wash us away.

We still have got each other.

You look just like your mother.
You look just like your father.
Forgive me, my father,
The sun is smiling,
So let roses be red?