Frank: This is fucking insane
Do you know what the definition of insanity is?
April: No. Do you?
Frank: Yes. It's in inability to relate to another human being
The holes we dig
Are like six feet deep
I think I might
Lay down here
And go to sleep
And all my friends
Are here with me
We got no air
Left to breathe
The dirt in our teeth
The secrets we keep
Will eat our enemies
And if I asked you to leave
You wouldn't come with me
And if I asked you to leave
You wouldn't come with me
They buried me
For all to see
In a backyard cemetery
A pet cemetery
While we're down here
I can't believe what we found here
A blood stained road
A thousand years old
That leads us to nowhere
April: You really are a wonderful talker
If black could be made into white by talking
You'd be the man for the job
So now I'm crazy because I don't love you, right?!
Is that the point?!
Frank: No! Wrong! You're not crazy, and you do love me
Thats the point, April
April: But I don't... I hate you
You're just some boy who made me laugh at a party once
And now I loath the sight of you
I just hope that
I just hope
I just hope that
I just hope
I just hope that (they don't know)
Someone comes
I just hope that someone comes
I just hope that someone comes and saves me
Because it's dark here (they don't know)
You buried me
Because it's dark here (they don't know)
You buried me