I wish that I could take you out of this shithole,
Sometimes I think that maybe we are dead,
And as we light up our day with stupid phone calls,
The hunger grows wild and refuses to be fed.

I wish that I knew how to use this weakness,
And get some sleep for a change,
And while you're having one of those morning sicknesses,
I'm planning our getaway from this cage.

It's a perfect day for dying,
Could have been a perfect day to be reborn.

Now I could pull this trigger,
And shut both of us for good,
But I rather go a bit deeper,
Trying to confront the wound.

It's a perfect day for dying,
Could have been a perfect day to be reborn,
I can hear your hollowness through the phone,
We decorated the room with industrial vomit,
We are black deep inside-did you know it?
I'm the one you should blame,
For that thing you've became,
Just don't leave me this way,
Self repeated and gray,
As the morning arrives,
Our thoughts become lives,
And my spirit crashes down on the floor,
As you whisper: "I can't take it anymore"
It's a perfect day for dying
Could have been a perfect day to be reborn,
I'm not that strong.