(The) Internet Killed the Video Star

Burn the instructions or plague the inventor?
Quick, easy, and painless
I'm a careless romantic
Wandering the streets
Luring strangers in the dark
If they follow in my footsteps
Then I'll love them all half-blind

If you want to make a scene
Then you've gotta make a scene
I'll put my hands on you
You put your hands on me
If you want to make a scene
Then you've gotta make a scene
I wasn't looking for trouble
But trouble found me

You fucked with the wrong son of a bitch
You fucked with the wrong son of a bitch
You fucked with the wrong son of a bitch
You fucked with the wrong son of a bitch

I caught you staring, it's not your fault
I killed the lights 'cause I saw it all
I caught you staring, it's not your fault
I kissed your lips, but not for too long

Tick tock, tick tock, the hour is up
Told to be anxious
You're a bit out of line
Sew it up like every other time
Un-amused at the table by the bedroom
They're all mine

If you want to make a scene
Then you've gotta make a scene
You fucked with the wrong son of a bitch
You put your hands on me
I'll put my hands on you
You fucked with the wrong son of a bitch

Sew it up like every other time
So in love like every other time
The needle and thread make me shiver
The red on your hands spells out martyr

I caught you staring, it's not your fault

I killed the lights 'cause I saw it all
I caught you staring, it's not your fault
I swear to God I watched you fall
I caught you staring, it's not your fault
Your perfect picture left its mark
I caught you staring, it's not your fault
I kissed your lips, but not for too long, too long
I caught you staring, it's not your fault, too long
I caught you staring, it's not your fault, too long
Too long, too long
I kissed your lips, but not for too long