Isn't It Funny?

All alone, all alone.
Now you're dying all alone.
On the floor, in the house.
Time is running, running out.
This is what you asked for.
Crawling towards the falling sun,
'Maybe,' you think, 'I should reconsider.'
But no.
Oh no, oh no.
It's too late; you get what you want.
Isn't it funny?
The first and last time at once.
Staring at your hands, you wonder,
'If I close my eyes and pray...'
Oh no, oh no.
No one can hear you, not now.
When the clock strikes nine, your time is out.
Isn't it funny, funny, funny.
All that is left is to laugh the hours away.
Hysteria never felt so good.