I can't figure this out; an errotion of the heart fit to kill.
you're hanging on to hope with far too much skill.
they say you've fallen, but it's not like we haven't seen it before;
the way you sway to his heart beat is something he can't ignore.
shake it baby, like you had never lost such a beat;
move your hips in a rhythmic pattern, rinse and repeat.
[you dance like your drunk, like the f-ck-up you are.]
so, dance, dance, baby; they say we're a lost cause,
we've got too much in our hearts and we're shinning with flaws.
and you contiplate, "i'd say it makes me quiver, but in this storm,
i'd be far too scared to move at all. it's a secret? hardly, i should inform;
everything of him leaves me more breathless than a chilly night
and together we might whisper, 'you're such a beautiful sight.'"
[baby, you're hanging onto a heart beat you can't control.]
and when the music stop, you can only hear them hum,
yet you continue to sing the melodatic lines, and wonder where they're coming from.
lost? it's only a question of how far you're willing to fall for him;
you've got a bit of electric shock in your heart and you can't swim --
he makes you drown in love and expects you to live again.
baby, i may be drowing still, but i swear you're not going to win;
