If there was nothing called birth

I often dream of fairytales
I enjoy it every bit
Then I wake up, to my nightmare
And bite my bleeding lip

Sometimes I hate when people say
'Emo's cut their wrist'
I find myself weak inside
So extremely pissed

Not all Emo's slit
And listen to punk and rock
I just wish I can eat people
And leave out their socks

And there's times when I want to be a mortal
And leave this threshold of what people call earth
All the bad would be good
If there was nothing called 'Birth'