So I say goodbye to a town that has ears and eyes,
I can hear you whispering,
As I walk by;
I walk by;
Familiar faces smiling back at me and I knew,
This would make them change;
This would make them change;The first time he sees her, he should have known he was in trouble. He is supposed to kill her, but she is so brave and bloody already that he puts down his weapons, and when he draws close she puts down hers as well, unwilling to kill an unarmed target. He carries her out of there himself.
Six months later, in Budapest, they work together to accomplish their respective goals. They are a perfect team. She bandages his injuries with small, white hands and he is so desperate to possess her, protect her, beautiful deadly thing that she is, that her touch leaves him burning. He gives her plenty of time to pull away, to say no, but she kisses him back, and well. After that there's no hope.
I've read these stories a thousand times, and now I'll rewrite them all;
You're meddling in an anger, you can't control;
She means the world to me, so hold your serpent tongue;
Is a whores lies worth dying for?
I'll just take my time;
At headquarters he is warned about the mark he let slip away. She is ruthless. She is a monster. Half a world away, his picture is presented to her. He is a threat. He is a problem. But they are each other's, now, no matter what their organizations would think of this betrayal; no matter how forbidden they are to one another.
The writings on the wall,
You've read that I'll be gone,
But if you call my name;
Just know that I'll come running,
For one more night to spend with you,
This is where I'm meant to be,
Please don't leave me;
If you see her, kill her, they tell him. You'll be a legend. She is told, Find him. Now. Kill him. Do not fail again. They meet in Lisbon, and neither one of them kills anyone. Come join me, he pleads. We could use someone like you. She smiles in the halflight, sad. She can't. The people she works for would follow. He buries his face in her hair, says Run away with me. We'll disappear. She shakes from the tears she won't let fall and says, This is the last time. They've ordered me to kill you. I can't see you again. He shakes at that too, and they make love like the world is ending, because it is. They lay in bed all of the next day, pressed close to each other's heartbeats, and he says, If you ever want or need me, I am yours. She says, I know. But should I,
I walked into your house this morning,
I brought the gun from our end table;
Your blood was strewn across the walls,
They'll find you on your bathroom floor;
He has promised to let her go, but he can't. Four days later, he walks up the stairs to the little flat she's rented, his pistol in the back of his pants just in case. She knows some bad people. He finds the door unlocked, and his pulse skyrockets. The carpets are splattered with dark stains, red sprayed on the walls. He runs through the rooms. There's a dead man in the kitchen, bled out from a wound between his ribs. That means nothing. It's her still form, sitting with her back to the wall in the bathroom, a gun in each frozen hand and her red hair matted with blood, that means everything. He thinks as he falls to his knees that his heart is broken into as many pieces as it can handle. Then he realizes that she is dead because he is alive, and that she knew it would be this way, and all those pieces shatter all over again.
Write it all off?
But should I,
Write it all off?
The only thing that's going to bother me
Is that you'll all call yourselves my friends
The only thing that's going to bother me,
Is that you'll all call yourselves my friends;
Why can't you look me in the eyes one last time?
Of all the people who are dead because of him, he would kill them all over again, twice, to undo this. He is finished. He flies home, a ghost in the world of the living. They pat him on the back and promise a new mission for him soon, no matter that this one failed. What could possibly be the point of being a star agent, of racking up successes, when you can never feel anything again, when part of you has gone and isn't coming back? He knows one day they'll talk about his career, about his great personality, call him a friend, but his only real ally was her, and they'll never know.
You should have killed me when you had the chance;
You should have killed me when you had the chance;
You should have killed me when you had the chance.
He sits in the dry bathtub, smoking. Sweetheart, he says, you didn't have to. She could have killed him any number of times in the past; she could have kissed him and put a knife in his heart and he would have loved her all the same. Sweetheart, it should have been me, and you would still be here. He puts out the cigarette and pictures her red hair and glowing smile when he swept her into his arms. You should have killed me when you had the chance, sweetheart, he says, putting the bitter-tasting muzzle in his mouth. It's all right, I've still got your back. I'm coming for you, sweetheart.