Flattered by your wish to kill me,
I blush pixels on and out
I blush at your request to kill me
This thank-you note is for faking it
We're working in a coma for a cheque and a chance
We're sleeping in a panic with the pixels and ads
Oh, demands
Dance or hang it up
We're sympathetic to chance
Working through a coma for some cheque and a chance,
sleeping in a panic with some pixels and ads,
harming every tissue for some ticker tape pants
Everybody ruins
You can dance or hang it up
Soften the tones and I'll always make time
Packing up on site, two thousand rooms
Travel in tombs, and I'll always make time
Hang it up