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Song title: Senses Fail - Irony Of Dying On Your Birthday

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Just know
We are
A speck
In time
So follow your bliss
And destroy the beauty
I'll lock myself alone in a room
Drinking until the clock strikes noon
With just a pen, a pill and some paper
And maybe I will write a sad song
Or another cliched poem
Of the person that I long to be
I wanna die like Jim Morrison
A f*cking rock star
I want to 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
Drinking until the clock strikes two
With just a pen, a pill and some paper
And maybe I will write a sad song
Or another cliched poem
Of the person that I long to be
(Colors blind)
The eyes
(Self-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 and I will
Drink until the clock strikes two
With just a pen, a pill and some paper
And maybe I don't understand
Just pour another please
This should foul up the person that I long to be