Don't even take a breath
The air is cut with cyanide
In honor of the New Year


The press gives us cause to celebrate:
These air raid sirens

Flood barbed wire skylines
By artificial night,
As we sleep to burn the red

From our bloodless lives.
Tonight we're all time bombs
on fault lines.


Have we lost everything now?
We're walking

like each other's ghosts
Around these silent streets
(the sedatives tell you everything

is alright)

Like calendars dying

at New Year's Eve parties
As we kiss hard on the lips
and swear this year

will be better then the last
Jet Black - the ink that spells your name
Jet Black - The blood that's in your veins

We say, "How long can we take this chance not to celebrate?"

There's music playing

But we dance to the beat
Of our own black hearts
And draw diagrams

Of suicide on each other's wrists
Then trace them with razorblades


Fire to flames
"Strike Match."


Burn these words from our lips
As 'The Daggar' screams
"Love is dead"

and it's a "newspaper tragedy,"

Have we lost what we love?

Have we said everything?
Does it change anything?
Stare at the clock

Avoid at all costs,
This emptiness.


Ten seconds left
until midnight
nine chances to drown ourselves

in black hair dye
eight faces turned away
from the shock:

seven windows and six of them
were locked
five stories falling

forever and ever
three cheers to the mirror
now there are two of us

can we have one last dance?
How long can we take this chance not to celebrate life?