I know your type, what you likes
A young corpse bride, cold as ice
I'm alive but I'm on fire
If that's alright, I want

Your love, your love, your love, your love
Your love, your love, your love, your love, your love
Your love, your love, your love, your love
Your love, your love, your love, your love, your love

And I know that you wanted me like her
In the palm of your hand like a lighter
All the lights make me want to be lighter
I don't care if I'm wrong, I'm a writer
I'm alive, and I'm on fire
If that's alright, I want

Your love, your love, your love, your love
Your love, your love, your love, your love, your love
Your love, your love, your love, your love
Your love, your love, your love, your love, your love

Hiding in the bushes with a mask and a pistol grip
I got a bullet with your name on the fuckin' tip
Killa, killa, what the fuck you gon' do?
I've got a bullet with your name on it