| Keep the noise low.
|
| She doesn’t wanna blow it.
|
| Shaking head to toe
|
| While your left hand does «the show me around.»
|
| Quickens your heartbeat.
|
| It beats me straight into the ground.
|
| You don’t recover from a night like this.
|
| A victim, still lying in bed, completely motionless.
|
| A hand moves in the dark to a zipper.
|
| Hear a boy bracing tight against sheets
|
| Barely whisper, «This is so messed up.»
|
| Upon arrival the guests had all stared.
|
| Dripping wet and clearly depressed,
|
| He’d headed straight for the stairs.
|
| No longer cool, but a boy in a stitch,
|
| Unprepared for a life full of lies and failing relationships.
|
| (Up the stairs: the station where
|
| The act becomes the art of growing up.)
|
| He keeps his hands low.
|
| He doesn’t wanna blow it.
|
| He’s wet from head to toe and
|
| His eyes give her the up and the down.
|
| His stomach turns and he thinks of throwing up.
|
| But the body on the bed beckons forward
|
| And he starts growing up.
|
| The fever, the focus.
|
| The reasons that I had to believe you weren’t too hard to sell.
|
| Die young and save yourself.
|
| The tickle, the taste of…
|
| It used to be the reason I breathed but now it’s choking me up.
|
| Die young and save yourself.
|
| She hits the lights.
|
| This doesn’t seem quite fair.
|
| Despite everything he learned from his friends,
|
| He doesn’t feel so prepared.
|
| She’s breathing quiet and smooth.
|
| He’s gasping for air.
|
| «This is the first and last time,"he says.
|
| She fakes a smile and presses her hips into his.
|
| He keeps his hands pinned down at his sides.
|
| He’s holding back from telling her
|
| Exactly what it really feels like.
|
| He is the lamb, she is the slaughter.
|
| She’s moving way too fast and all he wanted was to hold her.
|
| Nothing that he tells her is really having an effect.
|
| He whispers that he loves her,
|
| But she’s probably only looking for se-…
|
| (Up the stairs: the station where
|
| The act becomes the art of growing up.)
|
| So much more than he could ever give.
|
| A life free of lies and a meaningful relationship.
|
| He keeps his hands pinned down at his sides.
|
| He waits for it to end
|
| And for the aching in his guts to subside.
|
| The fever, the focus.
|
| The reasons that I had to believe you weren’t too hard to sell.
|
| Die young and save yourself.
|
| The tickle, the taste of…
|
| It used to be the reason I breathed but now it’s choking me up.
|
| Die young and save yourself.
|
| Up the stairs: the station where
|
| The act becomes the art of growing up.
|
| The fever, the focus.
|
| The reasons that I had to believe you weren’t too hard to sell.
|
| Die young and save yourself.
|
| The tickle, the taste of…
|
| It used to be the reason I breathed but now it’s choking me up.
|
| Die young and save yourself.
|
| [Note: These are the lyrics to the album version of the song.
|
| There is also a different version where chorus goes as:
|
| «The people, the focus.
|
| The reasons that I had to believe you weren’t too hard to settle.
|
| Die young and save yourself.
|
| They take all the taste out.
|
| It used to be the reason that we’re even, now it’s choking me up.
|
| Die young and save yourself."] |