Faith (When I Let You Down) from the upcoming self-titled album Taking Back Sunday available June 28, 2011

Taking Back Sunday

Faith (When I Let You Down)

Crypto Blues (Remastered).mp3

Lyrics: 

“To poor decisions and good company!”
(One. two. three Four!-)


[Verse 1]
Met you outside a pub, pissin’ rain, Tuesday night,
You called me a bastard — I said, “You’re right.”
You nicked my pint, I nicked your lighter,
You bit my lip, I bit back tighter.
We don’t do love songs, we do damage control,
Two dirty halves of one black hole.
A match made in the gutter, darling, sparks and smoke,
When we’re sober, we’re strangers; when we’re wrecked, we’re-

[Chorus]
Sympatico (Oi!)
We’re compatible
You're a cunt
And I'm a fuckin’ asshole
We drink, we fight, we love, we crawl,
We’re poison, baby—but we’re mutual.
Sympatico (Oi!)
How romantic, though—
Two bad hearts just caught in the undertoe
On a Tuesday night, with nowhere to go,
You're a cunt
And I’m a fuckin’ asshole

[Verse 2]
We’re like gin and tonic, but cheaper and worse,
You steal my fags and I nick your purse.
We argue in Tesco, get banned from the bar,
Make up in the taxi, break up in the yard.
You’ve got that chaos, that nicotine grin,
I’ve got that temper and the state I’m in.
We’re a Bonnie and Clyde with overdraft fees,
And a corner shop tab and two street-smarts degrees.

[Chorus]
Sympatico (Oi!)
We’re compatible
You're a cunt
And I'm a fuckin’ asshole
We binge, we brawl, we kiss, we fall,
We’re bad for health but good for soul.
Sympatico (Oi!)
How tragic, oh—
Two cracked cups in a sink of mould
You're my problem, my poison, an itch on my balls,
You're a cunt
And I’m a fuckin’ asshole

[Verse 3]
We’re the hangover’s handshake, with a cocaine grin,
The sick on the pavement where last night’s been.
You’re the scratch on the record, I’m the song that skips,
We’re love letters written on kebab shop slips.
I’m death and you’re taxes, we’re permanent stains,
Two blind-drunk hurricanes circling drains.
You’re the ashtray queen, I’m the pint-glass pope,
We baptise our sins in second-hand smoke.
We’re the fight at the wedding, the punchline missed,
The bruise on the knuckle, the mouth you kissed.
You’re mould in the mug, I’m rot in the fruit,
We’re Romeo and syphilis in cheap Doc boots.
You’re the sound of the siren, I’m the reason it screams,
We’re the nightmare scenario from everyone’s dreams.
It’s beautiful, bitter, disgusting and true—
The worst thing for me was finding you.

[Final Chorus]
Sympatico (Oi!)
We’re combustible—
You’re the spark, and I’m the fucking petrol.
We drink, we die, we laugh through it all,
Too toxic to quit, too proud to crawl.
Sympatico (Oi!)
How poetical—
Two lost dogs in a chemical glow.
We’ll burn this town to stay warm, you know,
You’re a cunt
And I’m a fuckin’ asshole.
Sympatico! (Oi!) (Oi!) (Oi!)
Yeah we’re Sympatico! (Oi!) (Oi!) (Oi!)
Baby we’re Sympatico! (Oi!) (Oi!) (Oi!)
