I want to die in a nightclub full of queers
I want to die drinking wine straight from a cask
I want to die at the precise instant that a girl says it
I want a dumb death, one of those that nobody can explain
And I'd become part of a vast collective
People that no longer work on weekdays or holidays
And I'd forget the things that have hurt me
People that don't control themselves and behave in a strange way
I want to die in the claws of an omnipotent being
I want to die with open arms, my body laid out
I want to die at a conference in front of a speaker
I want to sing dirty songs in the arms of death
It's supposed that life isn't that strident
Mom is wrong and the books lie
Mom is wrong and the books lie
Mom is wrong and the books lie