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