Painting a portrait that puts me to rest
Is it just, this is bliss
Is it just, this is bliss
This is bliss, this is bliss, this is bliss
Who'll stop the bleeding?
As you're stabbing my heart with the dullest of knives
Still, this game we play seems rigged
The house we built still feels empty
In this play we plant our feet and hold on till the climax
Now the crowd won't seem so pleased with this display
Brought to tears, betrayed by this self-immolation
This act is a charade, we forgot our lines
It's time to improvise, shred this useless script
Let's get a round of applause
Is it just, this is bliss
Like moths to a flame you said
Who'll stop the bleeding?
As you're stabbing my heart with the dullest of knives
Now there's blood on your hands
You know damn well it's mine
We're chewing the scenery now
WRITERS
Anthony Joseph Tartol, Connie Sgarbossa, Ethan Samuel Sgarbossa, Matt Squire, Taylor Cameron Allen, Timothy Moreno