It’s made of Kevlar, my heart
So you can take your best shot
Cast-iron lungs for screaming
These words are tempered teeming out
This tongue is tungsten fire
A picture perfect liar
We fight, we fall
But we don’t feel a thing at all
Emptiness to an art
Wicked hearts are unbreakable
(and we can’t be crossed)
Emptiness to an art
Wicked hearts are unbreakable
(when we’ve won, we’ve lost)
Your fingers—poison ivy
Just one more touch and I’ll be dead
Your skin is quilted quicksand
With every step we’re sinking in
You’re crying kerosene
Your arson tears careening down
With eyes of iron oxide
They’re rusting from the inside out
We fight, we fall
But we don’t feel a thing at all
Emptiness to an art
Wicked hearts are unbreakable
(and we can’t be crossed)
Emptiness to an art
Wicked hearts are unbreakable
(when we’ve won, we’ve lost)
Armored, I pin paper hearts to my sleeve
Your assails can’t pick apart chain maille underneath
Emptiness to an art
Wicked hearts are unbreakable
(and we can’t be crossed)
Emptiness to an art
Wicked hearts are unbreakable
(when we’ve won, we’ve lost)
