With the absence of eye, I can start to bleed again
With the color of hearts it seems like you wear right thin
And as it falls from your mouth, it seems like you needed it more
Well I can still ask for more, I will still ask for more

Get the fuck out, stay the fuck out
It makes me sick (I'm alright)
Slit wrist theory, stains us all

Lace me up, lace me up
I'm still looking for these angels in the snow
Lace me up, lace me up
I'm still looking for these angels in the snow

It seems like a runaround
Words that won't matter
And as it falls from your mouth it seems like you
needed it more
And I will color you all red, I will color you all, red

Get the fuck out, stay the fuck out
It makes me sick (I'm alright)
Slit wrist theory, stains us all

Lace me up, lace me up
I'm still looking for these angels in the snow
Lace me up, lace me up
I'm still looking for these angels in the snow

Braided conversation
Get the fuck out, stay the fuck out
It makes me sick (I'm alright)
Slit wrist theory, stains us all
And caved the fuck in, and bashed the fuck in, it's so old
Slit wrist theory, stains us all

Lace me up, lace me up
I'm still looking for these angels in the snow
Lace me up, lace me up
I'm still looking for these angels in the snow

Lace me up

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): BROCK LINDOW, MICK WHITNEY, STEVEN HOLT, THOMAS NOONAN