The Best Part Of Being Dead (Is Getting There)
i’m dead, there’s simply nothing more to me.
swing swing, i’m the wind in the cherry tree.
sing along with the chorus bursting out of me,
that you can’t hear.
a straight face with a crooked smile,
a straight lace, that i haven’t seen in a while.
i’m holding out everything i wanna say, so i’m okay.
what’s with you today.
today is the same, today i’m spending my day alone.
up here, in the clouds. waiting for you to find your way home.
through the trigger, through the bottle,
through the cancer at my feet.
i’ll get you eventually, you’ll be here eventually.
awkward silences and awkward broken feelings.
staring up and counting tiles on the ceiling.
i’m swallowing everything i wanna say, i’m not okay.
so just label me a fake.
today is the same, today i’m spending my day alone.
up here, in the clouds. waiting for you to find your way home.
through the trigger, through the bottle,
through the cancer at my feet.
i’ll get you eventually, you’ll be here eventually.
i’m dead, there’s simply nothing more to me.
swing swing, i’m the wind in the cherry tree.
sing along with the chorus bursting out of me,
that you can’t hear.