He lives in a box full of bomb Making catastrophe A world of moving lines There's not a lot of room for our love in his house So we make it at mine And when he comes, his heart beat stops Before he leaves, he plants explosives in my music box I thought I could finger paint a liquid future A raindrop shot in the dark But I've got a lot of secrets to file in a thriving pile Of what is breaking my heart And when he comes, his heart beat stops Before he leaves, he plants explosives in my music box Slowly, I'll walk away from the crime scene And soon my flesh will return from bright green Back to a primary color I'll bury the pigment of the accidental bedroom I love you 'Til I become a paler shade with a hand grenade That I'm throwing back at you