Mouseatouille Into The Morgue
I was small enough
To fit my father's palm
And now I'm taller than he will ever be
I can't believe that's who I am
I don't know these hands
Or these scars of mine
They just don't feel like mine
It's hard to recognize that I'm dying
And it will take some time
But I'm not to sad
Because I'm not who I think I am
I often feel like I've abandoned him
And I never feel how I'm supposed to feel
How can I tell this is real
How will I know?
And I'm getting old
And I'm getting tired
And I'm staying up all night
Worrying this is all a waste of time
And I'm stagnating
And my head is sore
And my friends are making friends and then there new friends will think I'm [?] of a guy
So I'm ducking [?]
And I'm telling lies
To avoid this person, with my voice and my hands and my [?]
And I never feel how I'm supposed to feel
How can I tell this is real
How will I know?
I miss the graveyard
Full to the brim
Of all the memories I'll never live again
And it's hard to know that part of my life is now over
My mind is a hallway
Of trophies in a case
The [?] and pieces have been falling out of place
And it's hard to know that part of my life is now over
It's now over
I miss my old school
I miss my old bed
I miss my old life
I miss my old friends
You say your farewells
I say my goodbyes
As they wheeled me in I feel his light
You only get one shot so you better give it your best try
