We'll take the scene and burn it down, rebuild the love and take back the sound. We got miles of smiles and mouths full of gasoline. I am sure i can step outside and find a match from a clammy hand. Cold hands are about to get warmer, new ears are about to find a reason to this passion. (we want some sweat on the top of your lips.) our lungs are the speakers and this fire is our excuse because i don't care about whatever happened to "born to rock 'n' roll" and if bragging where you've been makes you sleep easier, well lay your head down and stay there in your slumber. So throw us your drama. We like the taste of bullshit. This fire will never be put out.