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The Fine Art Of Making It Out Alive Lyrics
Kiss me on the forehead, angel, before I go to sleep.
I can't remember if it's Thursday or December.
I've been keeping track of days by counting hangovers and bottles on my floor.
My mangled memory is making me mistake misfortune for forgiveness.
I don't think I'll make it out alive.
So promise me that you'll survive to bury me.
Just empty all the alcohol and chronicle the chemicals, but don't forget the cigarettes.
Remember every ember.
Alright, I admit that past few months were broken and abused.
Now I'm used to the bleeding and unspoken words that kept me so confused.
Maybe we can get past these addictions, but the bodies piling up are a whole other story unless your stomach's strong enough.
Hell, maybe we can just pretend that this recovery won't depend on moderation and in the end the same routine won't leave me dead.
Just empty all the alcohol... or, baby, we're dead.
Tomorrow we'll wake up in time to stop this double suicide through kisses laced with cyanide and one last look through blood shot eyes.
I guess this is what they call killing yourself in small doses.
I can't remember if it's Thursday or December.
I've been keeping track of days by counting hangovers and bottles on my floor.
My mangled memory is making me mistake misfortune for forgiveness.
I don't think I'll make it out alive.
So promise me that you'll survive to bury me.
Just empty all the alcohol and chronicle the chemicals, but don't forget the cigarettes.
Remember every ember.
Alright, I admit that past few months were broken and abused.
Now I'm used to the bleeding and unspoken words that kept me so confused.
Maybe we can get past these addictions, but the bodies piling up are a whole other story unless your stomach's strong enough.
Hell, maybe we can just pretend that this recovery won't depend on moderation and in the end the same routine won't leave me dead.
Just empty all the alcohol... or, baby, we're dead.
Tomorrow we'll wake up in time to stop this double suicide through kisses laced with cyanide and one last look through blood shot eyes.
I guess this is what they call killing yourself in small doses.
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First off, awesome lyrics. This is obvously about someone suffering from addictions so bad they cant remeber jack shit. I think its also talking to someone about helping them recover, getting rid of "every ember" ..."or baby were dead". the song is pretty self explainatory, best lines are "Maybe we can get past these addictions, but the bodies piling up are a whole other story unless your stomach's strong enough." ps. i saw bno live, i need to see them again
This song applies SO much to people like me. Not that I'm and alcaholic or anything -takes sip of beer- No seriously now, it's really scary that lyrics like this actually apply to real life situations. It is what so many people are thinking, but are too shot to say anything about it. Powerful words.
I guess this is what they call killing yourself in small doses ...thats a great line. so ya basically the song is about addictions and such..and you realize your just slowly killing yourself and ruining your life.
I think the line about "killing yourself in small doses" is taken from High Fidelity. John Cusack says almost the exact same thing in reference to his habit of dwelling on his past relationships...like it's his addiction.
yes, i also thought that setitoff. because of that, i think the references to drug/alcohol addiction in this song are just metaphors for past relationships that failed. chilling song. especially because of the last line. i for one can't believe an amazing band like BNO came out of toronto.
"killing yourself in small doses" is a commonly used phrase BNO even said "what they call..." I agree with vulgar; I doubt this is really about drug abuse. Why would you make something so literal? I think it's about selfishness "survive to bury me" - they say that twice in the actual song. If it was about love they would be saying "I will survive to vury you"
man this track is so good. how good are the lyrics? fuckn hell