Flowers on My Grave

I'm frowning while I'm alive;
Will I smile while I'm dead?
Will you put flowers on my grave?
Will I be trapped there,
The flowers adding a 'beautiful' scent
To my confinement?

I hate the smell of flowers,
As they smell of the funeral I died at.
Left myself behind,
Mindlessly, psychotically cried.
I can't believe that after death, you would
Trap me with the smell.

Will I even be at my grave?
Or will I be that kid in heaven?
Be reborn into a brand new body?
Will I go to hell?
Or will I just cease to exist?

Will you put flowers on my grave?
Will you cry at my funeral?
Will I be happy, or will I keep crying?
I don't want your ugly roses, daisies,
I just want your love.