Just know
We Are
A Speck
In time
So follow your bliss,
And destroy the beauty
I'll lock myself alone in a room,
Drinking until the clock strikes noon
With just a pen, a pill and some paper
And maybe I will write a sad song
Or another cliché poem
Of the person that I long to be
I wanna die like Jim Morrison
A fucking rock star
I want to die like God on the cover of Time
Just a blink and it's gone
So baby pour some fame in my glass
So kill the forest
And destroy the beauty
I'll lock myself alone in a room,
Drinking until the clock strikes two
With just a pen, a pill and some paper
And maybe I will write a sad song
Or another cliché poem
Of the person that I long to be
(colors blind)
The eyes
(self deafen)
The ear
(flavors numb)
The taste
(thoughts weaken)
The mind
I'll attack someone with a switchblade knife
So that I can see their pain
I choose to be a serial killer
Cause the victims don't get any fame
I'll lock myself alone and I will
Drink until the clock strikes two
With just a pen, a pill and some paper
And maybe I will write a sad song
Or another cliché poem
Of the person that I long to be
The Irony Of Dying On Your Birthday Lyrics performed by Senses Fail are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that The Irony Of Dying On Your Birthday Lyrics performed by Senses Fail is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD