Text písně Senses Fail: The Irony Of Dying On Your Birthday

The Irony Of Dying On Your Birthday


Just know we don't astound in time
so follow your bliss, and destroy the beauty

Ill lock myself alone and I will
drink until clock strikes two
with just a pen a pill and some paper
And maybe I dont understand
so pour another please
This should foul up the person that i long to be

i wanna die like jim morrison
a fucking rockstar
i wanna die like god, on the cover of time
just a fake, in disguise
so please pour some fame in my glass

So kill the forrest, and destroy the beauty

Ill lock myself alone and I will
drink until clock strikes two
with just a pen a pill and some paper
And maybe I dont understand
so pour another please
This should foul up the person that i long to be

(Colors blind)
the eyes
(Self defend)
the ear
(Flavors now)
the taste
(Suffocates)
the mind

I would take someone with a switchblade knife
So that I can see their pain
I used to be a serial killer
cause the victims don't get any fame

Ill lock myself alone and I will
drink until clock strikes two
with just a pen a pill and some paper
And maybe I dont understand
so pour another please
This should foul up the person that i long to be

Just know we don't, astound in time







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