You're just dying to be a living work of art
All your life looked down upon
Outcasted since your birth
Fantasy and insanity co-existing in your mind
You're just dying to be a dying work of art
Climb to the highest building
Reach for the stars
Make sure that rope's secured
Then tie it around your neck
Dip your hands in strongest glue
Make sure it'll hold
Hands attached in sides of your head
You can finally let it go
Decapitated by long rope
Final snapping tone
Only glued hands still hold
They hold the severed head
Morning comes and people see a dying work of art
Sculptured by rigor mortis, the last gruesome stance
There it is, by the end of the rope
Hands grasping severed head
Torso recently deceased
A dying work of art
