Bad Apples - Romasanta Lyrics

Put your heart on a silver platter
And I'm bowing at your feet
And in the moonlight I'll go quietly
And sharpen my teeth
But then the twilight comes
And It rips me away and
I'm in the cold
But all these little things I do
You know that if they're coming through
It's in my soul
Then your knees begin to chatter
And bowing to the beat
Oh how the nighttime turns the sickly
Into a little slab of meat
But now the deed is done
And it's time to run
Cuz there's no one left to eat
But all these little things I do
You know that if they're coming through
It's in my soul
It's in my soul
It's in my soul
It's in my soul