Irony Of Dying On Your Birthday

Just know 
We are
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
[bad word] rockstar.
I wanna die like God, on the cover of time.
Just a blink and it's gone.
So please 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.

(I'll lock myself alone in a room) 
Just know...
(Drink until the clock strikes noon)
We are...
(With just a pen, a pill, and some paper) 
spec...
(And maybe I will write a sad song or another cliche poem of the person that I long to be )
In time...