With More Than Good Hooks - [Lyrics]

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They ended up...well, making love isn't exactly what I'm looking for.
But.
You.
Get.
The.
Picture.

This page is dedicated to the original lyrics that Ryan Ross (Panic!'s ex-guitarist) wrote for A Fever You Can't Sweat Out. Before recording the album, lines were added and taken away from the original lyrics so everything would work and fit together on the album. Panic! At The Disco did not want all the lyrics to go to waste, so the original lyrics are printed on the lyrics booklet in A Fever You Can't Sweat Out. These lyrics are different than the lyrics sung by Brendon Urie on the album.

If you are interested in looking at the lyrics that are actually recorded on the album, please go to page two of this sticky.  

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"Introduction"

[No lyrics.]

 

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"The Only Difference Between Martyrdom And Suicide Is Press Coverage"

Sit tight, I'm going to need you to keep time, come on just snap those fingers for me.
Good good now we're making some progress come on just tap those toes to the beat.
I believe that this may call for a proper introduction,
don't you see? I am the narrator, and this just the prologue
Swear we'll shake it up if you swear to listen.
Oh we're still so young but desperate for attention
And I aim to be your eyes (heart&mind)
Trophy boys, trophy wives, this time it's time.
Applause! Applause! No, wait wait...

Dear studio audience,
I've an announcement to make. It seems the artists these days are not who you think.
But we'll pick back up on that on another page.

Yours truly

 

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"London Beckoned Songs About Money Written By Machines"

Stop stalling. Make a name for yourself.
Boy you better put that pen to paper and charm your way out.
If you talk it better walk it better back you s**t up
with more than good hooks. While you're under the gun
Start talking. "a sensationalist"
oh he's slightly clever to just a certain extent
if you talk it better walk it better keep your mouth shut

(panic at the disco: meet the press)
It's time for us to take a chance.

Oh and, just for the record,
the weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of:
A. Indifference and(or)
B. Disinterest in what the critics say
I'm burning. and I'm blacking my lungs
(this happens if you keep your mouth shut)
boy you know it feels good with fire back on your tongue
Start talking. "a sensationalist"
oh he's slightly clever to just a certain extent
Keep quiet! Let us single like the doves,
then decide if it's done with purpose or lack thereof.

Well we're just a wet dream for the webzines,
make us it make us hip make us scene
Or. Shrug us off your shoulders.
Don't approve a single word we wrote.
(oh oh oh blessed objectivity)

 

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"Nails For Breakfast, Tacks For Snacks"

Watch your mouth, your speech is slurred enough that you might swallow your tongue.
I'm sure you'd want to give up the ghost with just a little more poise than that.
Or was it god who chokes in these situations?
Running late? No, no, he called in.
Problem: The hospice is a relaxing weekend getaway,
where you are a cut above every sick patient.
Where you're on first name basis with all the top physicians.
Solution: Prescribed pills to offset the shakes..
to offset the pills you should take..um..
take it a day at a time (fix a vice with a vice.)
That's when you stutter something profound to the support on the line.
And with the way you've been talking every word gets you a step closer to hell.
A pessimist? No I just can't help it.
To say what everyone else is thinking..(let me state the obvious again).

I am alone in this bed, house and head.
She never fixes this but at least she makes me forget.

 

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"Camisado"

This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor.
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital
And it's not so pleasant. And it's not so conventional
it sure as hell ain't normal, but we deal, we deal.
The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where
the apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in.
No it's not so pleasant. And it's not so conventional
it sure as hell ain't normal, But we deal, we deal.

Sit back, relax.
Sit back, relapse. again and again.
You can take the kid out of the fight but you cant take the fight out of the kid

You're a regular decorated emergency.
the bruises and contusions will remind you what you did when you wake.
you've earned a place atop the ICU's hall of fame.
The camera caught you causing a commotion on the gurney again.
(2nd highest all time number of curses, swears and punches)

 

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"Time To Dance"

Oh please, she's not bleeding
on the ballroom floor just for the attention.
That's just ridiculous...ly on.
But she sure is going to get it (the attention and the bullets)
here's the setting, fashion magazines line the walls.
now the walls line the bullet holes..
yea you sure let her have it. She didn't choose this role,
but she'll play it and make it sincere, so you cry.
But they believe it from the tears and the teeth
right down to the blood at her feet.
Boys will be boys, hiding in estrogens and Aubergine dreams.
Have some composure, and where is your posture?
oh no no! You're pulling the trigger all wrong.
Come on this is screaming photo op.
Give me envy
Flash
Give me malice
Flash
Give me attention
Flash
Give me...a break.
When I say shotgun you say wedding. Or whatever comes to mind.

 

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"Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off"

Well Is it still me that makes you sweat?
am I who you think about in bed?
When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress?
Well Then think of what you did. And I hope to God he was worth it.
When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as you're fingers touch your skin.
I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch...a better ******** any boy you'll ever meet. Sweetie you had me.
Girl I was it look past the sweat, a better love deserving of
exchanging body heat in the passenger seat?
no no no you know it will always just be..me

Let's get those teen hearts beating. Faster faster!

So testosterone boys and harlequin girls:
will you dance to this beat - and hold a lover close?

Now I guess we're back to us, oh cameraman, swing the focus!
In case I lost my train of thought where was it that we last left off?
lets pick up pick up
Oh now I do recall, we just were getting to the part...
Where the shock sets in,
and the stomach acid finds a new way to make you get sick.
Well then think of what you did. and how I hope to god he was worth it
For that I'm very sorry love... and though you may have

butchered us...
I sure hope you
didn't expect that you'd get all of the attention
(besides) did you really think I'd let you kill this chorus?

 

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"Intermission"

[No lyrics.]

 

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"But It's Better If You Do"

Now I'm of consenting age, to be forgetting you in a cabaret
somewhere downtown where a burlesque queen may even ask my name.
As she sheds her skin on stage,
i'm seated and sweating to a dance song on the clubs PA.
And the strip joint veteran sits two away,
smirking between dignified sips of his dignified peach and lime daiquri...
Isn't this precisely.where.you'd.like.me.
You know, Praying for love in a lap dance and paying in naivety?
But I'm afraid that I, well may have faked.
I wouldn't be caught dead in this place.

 

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"I Write Sins Not Tragedies"

Imagine; as I'm pacing the pews in a church corridor,
and I can't help but to hear an exchanging of words:
"What a beautiful wedding!" says a bridesmaid to a waiter.
"Yes, but what a shame, the poor groom's bride is a whore."

Oh dear, her infidelity just spilled all over the floor. Can somebody help her?

and I'd chime in with a "Haven't you people ever heard of closing a goddamn door?!"
No, it's much better to face these kind of things with a sense of poise and rationality.
In fact I'll look at it this way, I mean technically our marriage is saved!
This calls for a toast, pour the champagne!

 

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"I Constantly Thank God For Esteban"

Give us this day our daily dose of faux affliction,
forgive our sins (and those who've sinned against us).
forged. at the pulpit with forked tongues selling faux sermons.
Because I am a new wave gospel sharp, and you'll be thy
witness
So gentlemen, if you are going to preach Then for God sakes
preach with conviction!
Strike up the band!
Oh the conductor is beckoning,
Come congregation, and let's sing it like you mean it
No. Don't you get it don't you get it? Well don't you...move.
Just stay where I can see you.
Douse the lights!
...We sure are in for a show tonight
In this little number we are graced by two displays of character,
We've got: the gunslinger extraordinaire vs. the walking
contradictions
Because I for one can see no blood from their hearts or the
wrists they allegedly slit
And I for one wont stand for this
if this scene were a parish you'd all be condemned.

 

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"There's A Good Reason These Tables are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven't Thought Of It Yet"

Please, leave all overcoats, canes and top hats with the doorman.
And from that moment, you'll be out of place and underdressed.
I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it.
Ruining this banquet for the mildly inspiring and choreographed. Because.
When you're in black slacks with accentuating, off-white, pinstripes...
Everything goes according to plan.
I am the new cancer, never looked better and you. can't. stand. it.
I know because you say so under your breath.
Reading lips asking "When did he get at all confident?"

Next is a trip to the ladies room in vain.
No, you just can't keep up with these fashionistas.
Tonight you are the whispering campaign.
To them, your name is "Cheap", and you look like s**t.
Talk to the mirror, choke back tears. And keep telling yourself,
"I'm a diva I'm a diva!"
Oh and the smokes in that cigarette box at your table,
they just so happen to be laced with nitroglycerin.
(don't you hate this feeling?)
I know I know, It just doesn't feel like a night out
with no one sizing you up.
I've never been so surreptitious,
so of course you'll be distracted when I spike the punch.

 

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"Build God, Then We'll Talk"

It's these substandard motels on the on the corner of 4th and Freemont Street.
Appealing, only because they are just that un-appealing.
Any practiced catholic would cross themselves upon entering.
The rooms have a hint of asbestos and maybe a just dash of formaldehyde,
and the habit of decomposing right before your very eyes.
(along with the people inside.)

there are no raindrops on roses or girls in white dresses.
It's sleeping with roaches and taking best guesses
at the shade of the sheets before all the stains
and a few more of your least. Favorite. Things.

Tonight tenants range from: a lawyer and a virgin
Accessorizing with rosary tucked inside her lingerie
(she's getting a job at the firm come Monday.)
the Mrs. will stay with the cheating attorney.
moonlighting aside, she really needs his money.

Oh. What a wonderful caricature of intimacy.

and not to mention, the constable, and his proposition, for that "virgin".
Yes, the one the lawyer met with on "strictly business"
as he said to the Mrs. only hours before.
Well after he had left, as she was fixing her face in a compact,
there was a terrible crash. Between her and the badge.
She spilled her bag and her purse held a "purse" of a different kind.

And here is where he entertains that proposition:
arrested on possession
Or,
(now if this were you)

think of what you wouldn't want to happen.

They ended up...well, making love isn't exactly what I'm looking for.
But.
You.
Get.
The.
Picture.

Oh, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy.

 

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