Coloursfall
THIS IS HOW WE BLEED
Every, every, every single time,
You pull me back down to the scene of the crime.
Trouble never looked so God damn fine.
Oh my, oh my!
Here we go again I've got a sin I really need to confess;
Dirty little Friend, I'm addicted to your madness!
Come on give me some more!
you're a Disaster in a dress.
Oh my hot, Hot Mess!
You pull me back down to the scene of the crime.
Trouble never looked so God damn fine.
Oh my, oh my!
Here we go again I've got a sin I really need to confess;
Dirty little Friend, I'm addicted to your madness!
Come on give me some more!
you're a Disaster in a dress.
Oh my hot, Hot Mess!
It's been many long years.
The Showhouse has been quiet, dormant, empty.
Or so they thought.
One dark February night, the Showhouse bore signs of stirring. A light in the window, the faint wisps of music on the cool air. And then, after many nights of preparing, the spotlights burst to life, the marquee displaying names of songs long dead. The burning bright form of the Showhouse's Mistress, the Maestro of Misery, Hot Mess, invites the guests in...but who knows if they'll leave.
Trapping the living songs on the stage, Hot Mess takes to the intercom, silkily announcing that some among your number mean you harm. Run, run little songs, see if you can live until they're gone.
Some girls just wanna watch the world burn.
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Night falls. You have 48 Hours.