sic  transit  gloria...glory  fades  -  brand  new

keep  the  noise  low.

she  doesn't  wanna  blow  it.

shaking  head  to  toe

while  your  left  hand  does  "the  show  me  around."

quickens  your  heartbeat.

it  beats  me  straight  into  the  ground.

you  don't  recover  from  a  night  like  this.

a  victim,  still  lying  in  bed,  completely  motionless.

a  hand  moves  in  the  dark  to  a  zipper.

hear  a  boy  bracing  tight  against  sheets

barely  whisper,  "this  is  so  messed  up."

upon  arrival  the  guests  had  all  stared.

dripping  wet  and  clearly  depressed,

he'd  headed  straight  for  the  stairs.

no  longer  cool,  but  a  boy  in  a  stitch,

unprepared  for  a  life  full  of  lies  and  failing  relationships.

(up  the  stairs:  the  station  where

the  act  becomes  the  art  of  growing  up.)

he  keeps  his  hands  low.

he  doesn't  wanna  blow  it.

he's  wet  from  head  to  toe  and

his  eyes  give  her  the  up  and  the  down.

his  stomach  turns  and  he  thinks  of  throwing  up.

but  the  body  on  the  bed  beckons  forward

and  he  starts  growing  up.

the  fever,  the  focus.

the  reasons  that  i  had  to  believe  you  weren't  too  hard  to  sell.

die  young  and  save  yourself.

the  tickle,  the  taste  of...

it  used  to  be  the  reason  i  breathed  but  now  it's  choking  me  up.

die  young  and  save  yourself.

she  hits  the  lights.

this  doesn't  seem  quite  fair.

despite  everything  he  learned  from  his  friends,

he  doesn't  feel  so  prepared.

she's  breathing  quiet  and  smooth.

he's  gasping  for  air.

"this  is  the  first  and  last  time,"  he  says.

she  fakes  a  smile  and  presses  her  hips  into  his.

he  keeps  his  hands  pinned  down  at  his  sides.

he's  holding  back  from  telling  her

exactly  what  it  really  feels  like.

he  is  the  lamb,  she  is  the  slaughter.

she's  moving  way  too  fast  and  all  he  wanted  was  to  hold  her.

nothing  that  he  tells  her  is  really  having  an  effect.

he  whispers  that  he  loves  her,

but  she's  probably  only  looking  for  se-...

(up  the  stairs:  the  station  where

the  act  becomes  the  art  of  growing  up.)

so  much  more  than  he  could  ever  give.

a  life  free  of  lies  and  a  meaningful  relationship.

he  keeps  his  hands  pinned  down  at  his  sides.

he  waits  for  it  to  end

and  for  the  aching  in  his  guts  to  subside.

the  fever,  the  focus.

the  reasons  that  i  had  to  believe  you  weren't  too  hard  to  sell.

die  young  and  save  yourself.

the  tickle,  the  taste  of...

it  used  to  be  the  reason  i  breathed  but  now  it's  choking  me  up.

die  young  and  yourself.save  

up  the  stairs:  the  station  where

the  act  becomes  the  art  of  growing  up.

the  fever,  the  focus.

the  reasons  that  i  had  to  believe  you  weren't  too  hard  to  sell.

die  young  and  save  yourself.

the  tickle,  the  taste  of...

it  used  to  be  the  reason  i  breathed  but  now  it's  choking  me  up.

die  young  and  save  yourself.