Senses Fail - Irony Of Dying On Your Birthday

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Just know

We are

A spec

In time.



So follow your bliss

And destroy the beauty



I'll lock myself alone in a room

Drink until the clock strikes noon

With just a pen, a pill, and some paper

And maybe I will write a sad song

Or another cliche poem

Of the person that I long to be



I wanna die like Jim Morrison

A fucking rock star

I wanna 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

Drink until the clock strikes noon

With just a pen, a pill, and some paper

And maybe I will write a sad song

Or another cliche poem

Of the person that I long to be



(Colors blind)

the eyes

(Sounds 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 in a room

Drink until the clock strikes noon

With just a pen, a pill, and some paper

And maybe I will write a sad song

Or another cliche poem

Of the person that I long to be



Just know we are a spec in time

[Chorus in the background]



© N/A




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