Bid Adieu - Nowhere

When the youth die, we always say they passed before their time

But at what point in our life will they say that we just died?

And if I euthanized myself at the peak of my health

Would they still speak of me like they couldn’t tell

The wrong from the right?

I bet they would call me kid

I bet they would call me innocent

Triggerfinger to the head and you just tell me when

And I just pull it in

'Cause I’m the first of a dying breed

And all I wanted was a dynasty

A poetry speaking honesty

But it ended back in indecision

And the misery of the mystery

Of what people would think of me

If I lived to twenty-something

And don’t end up dying in my teens like

«Is it before my time yet?

Ok.

Just tell me when.»

Because if all we had is how we’re remembered

I’d burn a church down just to get trapped under

In a heroic suicide of trying to save another life

But I knew nothing was forming inside, it was my cover

And I’m up to my neck in nooses

And I don’t mean to be a nuisance

But the inconvenient truce is found when all the fucking news says is:

«Guns, guns, weather, guns, guns and yet another shooting»

There’s too many half-empty coffins

We don’t care for one day, shrug it off and say «the youth die so often»

And it’s true!

So just tell me when

So I can bid adieu to killing time and just kill myself instead

But we won’t break bread, because I’ve broken enough skin

I guess, that’s the difference between a starving artist

And the well fed

And if I met father time, I’d tell him to kill himself

For all the trials in this world that he has still yet to tell

And if his brother, the reaper calls to collect and get him

I’ll let it go to voicemail, because I haven’t picked who to harm

And if

I don’t

Get in-

To hell

If hell exists

Or if this is an end

If the devil would even take me in

And I wish he would, just so that I can report back home

That Satan is taking applicants from even the bastard kids

Just like me

We don’t know how much blood to drink until I taste the grapes

Or if by then I will be wasted enough to dance on my own grave

In a drunkenly manner of a certain rant or rave

About a boy of good morals, but a lack of faith

Turned into a saved man, but now a cripple

With a griphold on a bible and a mind on a rifle

And the life inside scriptures is like living with a blindfold

So wrapped up in the afterlife, that you put away the real world

But the rest of us have to live here

So would you mind keeping your mouth closed, if your mind matches

And if the matches light, would you mind sifting through the ashes for dust

mites?

But it’s me, so just might not, and more likely

The only trophy

That I ever earned

Was an urn

For life participating

And I’m just waiting to fill it

We’re all just waiting to fill it

Affiliated and create a feeling, until someone else kills it

And someone always does

And everything we love becomes our disease

Eventually getting words from my mind to yours will be like

Pushing a corpse down the street

Just tell me when

And I’ll make that corpse me