Dead کے بول

Little blonde ghost won’t let it go Get your ribbons off my bed Ten red roses, oh no I’d rather be dead I’d rather be dead Am I reckless and wicked Have I fooled you enough Sticky sweet on the outside And in for myself I can charm with my eyes and Curse the company I keep Only blankness in my dreams When I go to sleep Little blonde ghost won’t let it go Get your ribbons off my bed Ten red roses, oh no I’d rather be dead I’d rather be dead You are mine and mine alone I am running a fever I am spoiling the nest Sick and sweet and spreading quickly Oh, I’d rather be dead