The Funeral Song

Even when i'm only trying to peel off a layer
I can feel the still breeze of abandoned air
Being liked is easy, it's what comes natural
You're not a real girl, you're a spectacle

Painted on eyebrows, stomach surgery
Getting drunk too late or early
Anesthesiology
Whatever makes you happy

You bend at the knees when you breathe
You collide with your minds, different colored eyes, only rule is everybody dies
And you polish your palms, wreck your arms
And your hell is holding on

Expect to die and you'll survive
You're allowed to walk into the fire
I can tell you hate yourself
You're an easy sell, be sick or well

We are not done with the funeral song, we have more out of the last one
And we are a lazy parade and by singing we count the days until the song's done
I'm gonna count to three now
Yeah, this is pulling teeth, it's mostly me
And you can count on that, you look your happiest when you're mad
On the way to the bathroom with your backpack
Shoot the messiah, wait for a sign
We'll wait for you on the other side
And while you digest the blood
Your friends gonna pull the plug
Listen to the lungs empty your soul

Bend at the knees when you breathe
You collide with your minds, different colored eyes, only rule is everybody dies
Polished your palms, wrecked your arms, your hell is holding on

Expect to die and you'll survive
You're allowed to walk into the fire
As far as I can tell, you hate yourself
You're an easy sell, be sick or well