Sinner's Serenade - Cursive

Oh God, no

Please don’t tell her

What I’ve done;

I can hardly look at her

Everything I love I hurt

Oh God, yes

She is love, she is sex

But I used her for the game;

A scapegoat to carry the blame

For a hate song

For a hate song

Like masochism

I hate these hate songs

Holding a dove

Then clipping it’s wings off

Someone you love

And you give them the kiss off

Someone to love

And you fuck it up!

How I hate these dirty words I emulate

How I hate ruining what I create

How I hate this

(and I hate that you don’t fall for it)

This sinner’s serenade

This hate song

(this self defecation)

Isn’t helping anyone

Save the sinner

Save the sinner

Save the sinner

He knows not what he’s done to himself

What he’s done to others

He hides behind words

He hides behind liquor;

He hides in his bedroom with his guitar

Screaming, «Sinner!»

Oh God

Look what I’ve done

In the bedroom