The signal flares will light the way to the scene of the accident, where we'll dance like a pile of teeth in a broken mouth. Such a sick celebration. Everyone loves a f**ing tragedy in epic proportions. Lets set our hearts at self-destruct. Like scarlet drips on a white tile floor. A cardiac metronome. We'll scrape the guardrail from our teeth and start again. There's a flood in the infirmary where we'll swim through broken gla**. Our prosthetic limbs will keep us afloat. Lets set our hearts at self-destruct.