american zombie

He's got a storm cloud over his head, says he likes how it lingers He only listens to punk rock bands with a dead lead singer He just killed a fifth of some dirt-cheap gin, says he's not much of a drinker But I'm not pointing fingers 'Cause I'm a compulsive manic kinda sad boy dead beat fixer And he's an undead ringer So misunderstood, I wanna get inside his head Something 'bout a guy who's only hanging by a thread He's only half alive, with smokey puppy eyes He swears to God his heart is as black as his coffee So broken, but he's sweet, holds me tighter than his jeans He's my, he's my American zombie He's my- He's my- He's my American zombie He's got his Converse tied all wrong and a chip on his shoulder I ask him why he gets so damn high, he says I might understand when I'm older God, he looks so lonely, I should let him in my bed Something 'bout a guy who's only hanging by a thread He's only half alive, with smokey puppy eyes He swears to God his heart is as black as his coffee So broken, but he's sweet, holds me tighter than his jeans He's my, he's my American zombie He's tragic, but he's cool, so pretty that it's cruel And he can't really seem to keep his cold hands off me Got poison on his breath, but he's trying his best He's my, he's my American zombie He's my- He's my- He's my American zombie He's my- He's my- He's my American zombie