A Parade of Sweet Nothings
Dead
Yes, it’s me.
Did you know, that if your heart stopped its lively rhythm, I’d wonder whether that meant you’d get what you deserve? And what you deserve is the ending of your pitiful life, so it would be so. If you ever get to heaven, babe, which I doubt somehow, I’ll be here waiting, I promise you that. Waiting to check that you get what you damn deserve, and that’s the fucking end of your worthless existence. If your life is so damn eager to end, then it’s because your feeble, weak little heart can’t take that this, this all-consuming hate, for you, it’s because it can’t take that I don’t love you anymore.
Have you heard the fucking news!? Isn’t it fabulous sweetie, your dead now, look at you. I really would offer words of sympathy, so would the people you’ve left behind, but no-one really has much nice to say darling, and death is traumatic enough we think. Telling you that they never liked you much when you were alive and even less so now might break you, oh wait! So sorry, let that one slip. Let’s get of this little nightmare eh? This hospital bed doesn’t do much for your complexion dear. It’d be grand if we were dead you know? Oh, wait, we already are. Not quite the way you planned it, and that really tears me up, I’m sure you can tell, but what can we do about it, we’re dead.
Oh, tongue-tied so suddenly are you? Go on, talk. Oh so delicate and easily upset all of a sudden are you, whatever for? I never fell in love? No need to tell me dear, I know that, of course I didn’t, and you killed me for it, but you’ve got what you deserve sweetie, the ending of your own miserable excuse for a life. I don’t suppose you’ll get as far as heaven darling, but I’ll be there waiting anyway. I’ve got exactly what I deserve, what about you sweetie? The end is it? Oh don’t tell me you mean the end of us!? That’s laughable; it was the end of that a long time ago. You life was going on without you cause your heart couldn’t take that could it? That we were over? Fool.
Oh and back to that lovely news of your death! Nobody cares, they never liked you. Oh come now, stop these tears, silly dear. Take you from the hospital bed? Whatever for, perhaps I should leave your soul caught in your slowly decaying corpse, it would be grand, even more so if I could’ve taken that damn pistol by the hand and shot you first all that time ago, then maybe myself too, because being dead then would be so much more romantic, you get what I’m saying?
If you really want me to be honest, during this heartfelt, oh the irony, little chat of ours, I found a little problem with that heart of yours, it’s as poisoned and black as can fucking be. Anyway, darling, so long, cause you’ve got two weeks to live, no, silly me, not any more, that was two weeks ago! Never mind, but is this the most we can give to this final chat? On my part, yes, but you’ve been pretty quiet dearest.
I’ll give you four more seconds to say you final words before I leave sweetie, one, two, three…four! Too late, bye darling!
I think, I think I’ll sing a little, to celebrate that you’re dead, come along now, sing with me, sing, sing, you motherfucker, sing with me.
If life ain’t just a joke? Don’t be silly dear, of course it’s a joke, or why would I be laughing so hard. No, I mean it, don’t ask me about it being just a joke, for it certainly is, no doubt about it, or why would I laugh? Really, silly question that, not really a question at all though is it. Why are you dead? Oh, lord, you are a fool. Because you killed me first is why, you’ve got what you deserve. Yes darling, now you and I are both dead!
Did you know, that if your heart stopped its lively rhythm, I’d wonder whether that meant you’d get what you deserve? And what you deserve is the ending of your pitiful life, so it would be so. If you ever get to heaven, babe, which I doubt somehow, I’ll be here waiting, I promise you that. Waiting to check that you get what you damn deserve, and that’s the fucking end of your worthless existence. If your life is so damn eager to end, then it’s because your feeble, weak little heart can’t take that this, this all-consuming hate, for you, it’s because it can’t take that I don’t love you anymore.
Have you heard the fucking news!? Isn’t it fabulous sweetie, your dead now, look at you. I really would offer words of sympathy, so would the people you’ve left behind, but no-one really has much nice to say darling, and death is traumatic enough we think. Telling you that they never liked you much when you were alive and even less so now might break you, oh wait! So sorry, let that one slip. Let’s get of this little nightmare eh? This hospital bed doesn’t do much for your complexion dear. It’d be grand if we were dead you know? Oh, wait, we already are. Not quite the way you planned it, and that really tears me up, I’m sure you can tell, but what can we do about it, we’re dead.
Oh, tongue-tied so suddenly are you? Go on, talk. Oh so delicate and easily upset all of a sudden are you, whatever for? I never fell in love? No need to tell me dear, I know that, of course I didn’t, and you killed me for it, but you’ve got what you deserve sweetie, the ending of your own miserable excuse for a life. I don’t suppose you’ll get as far as heaven darling, but I’ll be there waiting anyway. I’ve got exactly what I deserve, what about you sweetie? The end is it? Oh don’t tell me you mean the end of us!? That’s laughable; it was the end of that a long time ago. You life was going on without you cause your heart couldn’t take that could it? That we were over? Fool.
Oh and back to that lovely news of your death! Nobody cares, they never liked you. Oh come now, stop these tears, silly dear. Take you from the hospital bed? Whatever for, perhaps I should leave your soul caught in your slowly decaying corpse, it would be grand, even more so if I could’ve taken that damn pistol by the hand and shot you first all that time ago, then maybe myself too, because being dead then would be so much more romantic, you get what I’m saying?
If you really want me to be honest, during this heartfelt, oh the irony, little chat of ours, I found a little problem with that heart of yours, it’s as poisoned and black as can fucking be. Anyway, darling, so long, cause you’ve got two weeks to live, no, silly me, not any more, that was two weeks ago! Never mind, but is this the most we can give to this final chat? On my part, yes, but you’ve been pretty quiet dearest.
I’ll give you four more seconds to say you final words before I leave sweetie, one, two, three…four! Too late, bye darling!
I think, I think I’ll sing a little, to celebrate that you’re dead, come along now, sing with me, sing, sing, you motherfucker, sing with me.
If life ain’t just a joke? Don’t be silly dear, of course it’s a joke, or why would I be laughing so hard. No, I mean it, don’t ask me about it being just a joke, for it certainly is, no doubt about it, or why would I laugh? Really, silly question that, not really a question at all though is it. Why are you dead? Oh, lord, you are a fool. Because you killed me first is why, you’ve got what you deserve. Yes darling, now you and I are both dead!
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Okay... there's the next one. xoxo