The Irony Of Dying On Your Birthday Lyrics

Senses Fail The Irony Of Dying On Your Birthday

(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 f..cking 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]