This One's for the Lost Boys

The rain falls around him in misery, and baby, you're dancing in the rain.

They'll eat you and your disdain.

Oh, no, it's Spring-Heeled Jack. Oh, he's gone. Wow, what a crack.

Heads up, I skipped the track. 

We made a bet, and then regretted not folding. 
We made a change, and then regretted not holding.
Look to the past as we wait for our futures.
The last was more beautiful than these torn sutures. 

I am fully aware, madam, that I am a curse.
Yes, I realize it got torn open. I see the suture.
Sick with the pain and they're your only hope, your nurse.

Dying from the pain and a savior is nowhere to be found.
You're too weak to look, not strong enough to poke your head out of the door's book.
Oh, how sharper than a serpent's tooth. Roll snake eyes; 
keep wishing for the dead, in place of the sun, to rise.

If home is where the heart is, I guess the other way is where we're bound.
We're all broken, hope-eating, and forgotten toys.
Let's raise our wine glasses in a toast to us, the Lost Boys,
when the opposite direction is where we're bound.
Ha, so much for eternal and.... 
Welcome to the Lost Boys' Deathlessland.
In our seclusion, we are nowhere to be found.