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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Thursday
Thursday
Performer
Geoff Rickly
Geoff Rickly
Vocals
Tom Keeley
Tom Keeley
Guitar
Steve Pedulla
Steve Pedulla
Guitar
Tim Payne
Tim Payne
Bass Guitar
Tucker Rule
Tucker Rule
Drums
Andrew Everding
Andrew Everding
Keyboards
Gerard Way
Gerard Way
Background Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Geoff Rickly
Geoff Rickly
Lyrics
Tom Keeley
Tom Keeley
Composer
Steve Pedulla
Steve Pedulla
Composer
Tim Payne
Tim Payne
Composer
Tucker Rule
Tucker Rule
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Sal Villanueva
Sal Villanueva
Producer
Tim Gilles
Tim Gilles
Mixing Engineer
Dr. Timo G. Less
Dr. Timo G. Less
Mastering Engineer
Joe Pedulla
Joe Pedulla
Recording Engineer
Arun Venkatesh
Arun Venkatesh
Recording Engineer
Lee Zappas
Lee Zappas
Assistant Recording Engineer

Lyrics

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 The air raid sirens Flood barbed-wired skylines By artifical 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? 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 than the last Jet black, the ink that spells your name Jet black, the blood that's in your veins Jet black, 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 the words from our lips As the dagger 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 Have we lost everything now? 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 than the last Have we lost everything now? 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 that this year, this year 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 are locked Five stories falling Forever and ever Three cheers to the mirror Now there are two of us Can we have one last dance? Jet black, the ink that spells your name Jet black, the blood that's in your veins Jet black, we say "How long can we take this chance not to celebrate?" Jet black, the ink that spells your name Jet black, the blood that's in your veins Jet black, we say "How long can we take this chance not to celebrate life?"
Writer(s): Robert Keeley Iii, Timothy Payne, Steven Pedulla, Geoffrey Rickly, Thomas Rule Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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