Patiently we watch and wait,
As demons coincide and congregate,
About everything you stand for
And all the things you live for.
So pack your bag and hide your gun inside,
And tell yourself everythings alright,
Because youre going to hell for the weekend,
I hear its great this time of year.

Dont look back theres no use,
These times will haunt you forever,
Tearing out your eyes,
To try to hide images,
embedded in your mind,
Created on the fatal night.

Now youre spending all your time,
Wishing on these shooting stars,
Praying to correct your crime.

So this is what we live for,
This is why were here,
Doctor doctor please take away this medicine,
Hes sicker than he ever was before.

This bottle clearly states,
Do not over use hes highly unpredictable.
Now tell me whats that on your breath?
You reek of cheap perfume and sex.
So tell me is it worth it,
to stay up late at night wishing on every falling star?

Begging for these answers,
And theyre falling short of anything,
I can hold close to my heart.

Lyrics submitted by loozy

Fault of the Century song meanings
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