Senses Fail - Irony of Dying on Your Birthday lyrics
[Senses Fail - Irony of Dying on Your Birthday lyrics]
Just know we are a speck 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 cliché 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 cliché 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
Because 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 cliché poem
Of the person that I long to be
I'll lock myself alone in a room (Just know)
Drink until the clock strikes noon
With just a pen, a pill, and some paper
(We are)
And maybe I will write a sad song (A speck)
Or another cliché poem
Of the person that I long to be (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 cliché 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 cliché 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
Because 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 cliché poem
Of the person that I long to be
I'll lock myself alone in a room (Just know)
Drink until the clock strikes noon
With just a pen, a pill, and some paper
(We are)
And maybe I will write a sad song (A speck)
Or another cliché poem
Of the person that I long to be (In time)