Bid Adieu

[Verse 1]
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."

[Verse 2]
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

[Verse 3]
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

[Verse 4]
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