Once a night my bedroom light
Sneaks out from inside my window
-awoken in the night by a nightmare
Eyes white, I keep out of sight
This city's just not pretty like it used to be
-withdrawn, the city's lost is beauty now that she's alone
It's always a nightmare, it's never a dream
The promise we (MADE!) to kill the days between
-whoever submitted lyrics made a HUGE mistake, this practically defines the meaning. regret is her nightmare, the memory of lost promises to be together forever
They live in the heartbeat and sleep til the light is gone
-the past haunts her dreams
It's been so long
Feels like pins and needles in my heart
So long
I can feel it tearing me apart
-"pins and needles", the sign of a waking limb. her heart has been without feeling and the only thing that makes it feel anymore is the pain of the lost love.
To the bed the left unsaid
Crawl in from outside my window
-great metaphor for her always thinking of what was left unsaid
Hands red and cold as the dead
A pity they're not pretty like they used to be
-she is aging, the relationship was quite a ways in the past
so there you have it. it's not even that complex, how could you think it was about a serial killer...
this song is about a lost relationship.
Once a night my bedroom light Sneaks out from inside my window
-awoken in the night by a nightmare
Eyes white, I keep out of sight This city's just not pretty like it used to be
-withdrawn, the city's lost is beauty now that she's alone
It's always a nightmare, it's never a dream The promise we (MADE!) to kill the days between
-whoever submitted lyrics made a HUGE mistake, this practically defines the meaning. regret is her nightmare, the memory of lost promises to be together forever
They live in the heartbeat and sleep til the light is gone
-the past haunts her dreams
It's been so long Feels like pins and needles in my heart So long I can feel it tearing me apart
-"pins and needles", the sign of a waking limb. her heart has been without feeling and the only thing that makes it feel anymore is the pain of the lost love.
To the bed the left unsaid Crawl in from outside my window
-great metaphor for her always thinking of what was left unsaid
Hands red and cold as the dead A pity they're not pretty like they used to be
-she is aging, the relationship was quite a ways in the past
so there you have it. it's not even that complex, how could you think it was about a serial killer...