High Meaning Autopsy

Living in one thing while hiding in the next
This life, I can't take it, as the rain smashes down
Counting the tear drops as they hit the ground.
Running from problems is what I do best
Never thinking that one day they'd come back to make me rest
The memories slip around my throat as words ring in my ears
Tighter and tighter, this is what I fear.
The rain smashes harder, I can barley hear.
I can tell, death is near
So I put on my "wings" and I flew from the sky
A sharp pain through my body
Now I'm ready to autopsy
The knife cuts through me and I don't feel a thing
With nothing to come and nothing to sing.
Dead, in the mourge is where I'll be.