Irony of Dying on Your Birthday Songtext
von Senses Fail
Irony of Dying on Your Birthday Songtext
"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 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]
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]
Writer(s): Daniel Gerard Trapp, Garrett Michael Zablocki, Michael John Glita, David Michael Miller, James Anthony Buddy Nielsen Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com