Red Or White Wine?
Nothing's the same,
Fading away, fading away.
You've been worn,
You've been worn,
You've been warned for the last time.
Don't it hurt?
Don't it hurt?
Honey, you're playing with matches.
It's not time to go,
It's something in your eyes.
You can't take it slow,
It's something in the wine.
You taste like something's wrong.
"Darling, tell me, is something wrong?"
Turn, turn the wheels of horror,
You'll hang for what you've done.
I've failed to recognize my hand as part of the problem.
I'll watch you fall from this balcony like a chandelier from the sixth story.
The concrete will stain from the blood which you paint.
A poet you've lived,
Now an artist you'll die.
It's not time to go,
It's something in your eyes.
You can't take it slow,
It's something in the wine.
You taste like something's wrong.
"Darling, tell me, is something wrong?"
You can't play with matches.
Turn, turn the wheels of horror,
You'll hang for what you've done.
I've failed to recognize my hand as part of the problem.
¿Vino tinto o blanco?
Nada es igual,
Desvaneciéndose, desvaneciéndose.
Has sido desgastado,
Has sido desgastado,
Has sido advertido por última vez.
¿No duele?
¿No duele?
Cariño, estás jugando con fuego.
No es momento de irse,
Es algo en tus ojos.
No puedes tomártelo con calma,
Es algo en el vino.
Tienes un sabor a algo mal.
'Cariño, dime, ¿hay algo mal?'
Gira, gira las ruedas del horror,
Colgarás por lo que has hecho.
He fallado en reconocer que mi mano es parte del problema.
Te veré caer desde este balcón como un candelabro desde el sexto piso.
El concreto se manchará con la sangre que tú pintas.
Fuiste poeta,
Ahora morirás como artista.
No es momento de irse,
Es algo en tus ojos.
No puedes tomártelo con calma,
Es algo en el vino.
Tienes un sabor a algo mal.
'Cariño, dime, ¿hay algo mal?'
No puedes jugar con fuego.
Gira, gira las ruedas del horror,
Colgarás por lo que has hecho.
He fallado en reconocer que mi mano es parte del problema.
Escrita por: Drop Dead, Gorgeous