Description
Recording Engineer, Lyricist, All Instruments, Composer, Producer, Mixing Engineer, Mastering Engineer: Lee Newell
Associated Performer: Sunday (1994)
Lyricist, All Instruments, Composer: Paige Turner
Lyrics and translation
Original
The rain falls harder at my new school.
We'll thank God for you, beautiful girl.
And bring me the head of the teacher that said our love is a sickness.
There's no pill for this.
We're terribly obsessed with each other.
When your dress hits the floor, sure, I'll take the blame for all the people that I've slain. It's such a shame.
It's such a shame. Shame.
We wanna be lovers, but they want us dead, 'cause life is sick in the head.
We're runnin' through the gardens with bows in our hair.
Blood on my fingernails, truth or dare.
And I won't tell if you won't tell.
We'll run from the nuns and horse it well.
It's like mommy used to say, "It's such a shame.
It's such a shame. "
Shame.
We wanna be lovers, but they want us dead, 'cause life is sick in the head.
All we need to be free and in love is blood for Stroma.
All we need to be free and in love is blood for Stroma.
All we need to be free and in love is blood for Stroma. Shame.
It's such a shame.
Shame.
From innocent lovers to villains instead, 'cause life is sick in the head.