Sixteen candles on a birthday cake.
Don't blow them out, let them burn all the way.
You gotta learn about your fate, cuz we're all going to melt someday.
I hear it when I crunch the leaves on the ground
imagine it's me, once green soon brown,
and the wind will howl, but I won't make no sound.
After we pass through this circus
after they have swept the floor
it will all go back to the way it was before.
I keep myself distracted with a mirrored pen.
I store the words on paper instead of my head
it's like a cold glass of milk when me and my stomach ache are stuck in bed.
What if all the crazys are really sane?
And they see something that the rest of us can't?
And they'll never feel the pain of having to fade away?
I'm fine being by myself.
I'm not wasting my wishes on women
when I'm throwing pennies down the well.
I'm fine being by myself.
I still got my tongue, don't I? And a story to tell.
It will all go black like the way it was before.