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Story Of The Year - Real Life Lyrics

Styling your shroud,
Infecting the crowd,
Steady letting the fruit of her thrill,
Fool you so well.
Fictitous styles of living,
We've expected to work.
But this is all your giving,
Half of what your worth.
Pigeonhole in battles,
Overtones of snow in her clutch.
Falling through lines,
One more reath destroys the best of you,
The death of you.
Styling your shroud,
Infecting the crowd,
Steady letting the fruit of her thrill,
Fool you so well.
A precious gift embedded,
Deep within our skin,
But parasitic pleasures,
Are closer than kin.
Please expose your shadows,
Such concerns are products of love.
Falling in lies,
One more fraud destroys our trust in you,
Our love for you.
Styling your shroud,
Infecting the crowd,
Steady letting the fruit of her thrill,
Fool you so well.
As you kiss the abstract,
And pray it's everything you'd hoped for.
The smell of her,
The thrill of her,
The fruit of her,
The use of her.
It's killing everything that you've worked for.
The smell of her,
The thrill of her,
The fruit of her,
The use of her.
It's killing everything that you've worked for.
Styling your shroud,
Infecting the crowd,
Steady letting the fruit of her thrill,
Fool you so well.
Smell of her,
Thrill of her,
Fruit of her,
Use of her.

Smell of her,
Thrill of her,
Fruit of her,
Use of her.
The smell of her,
Thrill of her,
Fruit of her,
Lucifer.