Text: Virgins. Miscarriage. Escape From '07.

Next year things won't be so bad
I know you're sick of being sad
I'm skipping my own funeral
coffins and urns and graves
it doesn't feel like anyone's safe
I'm skipping my own funeral
one less victim
last year we tried and failed
bad luck's a fuckin' drag
I'm skipping my own funeral
if she had talked to you
from beyond the grave like me
you'd see why my lips turn blue
on less victim
I'm skipping my own funeral