Текст песни Birthday Dethday

Many years ago today something grew

Inside of your mother...

That thing was you

YOU

YOU YOU YOU YOU

Did she scream did she cry

Only those that are born are the ones that

Get to die

One more year closer to dying

Rotting organs ripping grinding

Biological discordance

Birthday equals self abhorrence

Years keep passing aging always

Mutate into vapid slugs

Doctor gives a new perscription

Bullet in a fucking gun

One more year closer to dying

Plastic surgeons fuel the lying

You forget why you came in here

Your mind rots with every New Year

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For the DETH of thee

You have little time

Happy Birthday

You're gonna die

Now you're old and full of hatred

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Children point to you and scream

Because they will become that thing

One more year of further suffering

There's no point of fucking bluffing

Open up your DETHDAY present

It's a box of fucking nothing

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For the DETH of thee

You have little time

And you're running out of life

Happy Birthday

Your Gonna DIE

DIE DIE

DETHDAY

BIRTHDAY

DETHDAY

DIE DIE

DETHDAY

BIRTHDAY

DETHDAY

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For the DETH of thee

You have little time

And you're running out of life

Happy Birthday

You're gonna die