Dying Is An Art

I've got some rules that I can't break
I'm feeling caged in my mind state
Can't seem to find the gap
Between inventive and crazy
Same goes for minimal perfection and lazy

I need some help, can you hear me
I'm kind of muffled, but I sing clearly
Pursuit is fickle, but my blood breathes

Into my heart, don't wanna distribute the art
Into my heart, don't wanna distribute the art
Into my heart, don't wanna distribute the art

Beat, beat, beat, beat, I'll bang it in your head
Beat, beat, beat, beat, till I'm pronounced dead
Keep, keep, keep, keep pennies on my eyes
They'll be needed for the debt of my demise

Dying is an art, but what about the converse
I write out my soul, it burns until you say that I'm worth
More than something anything comparable
Drag down another one, laugh as they fall

I'm almost at my threshold
Self indulged avoiding getting old
What can I do to make them all pleased
But If I act acceptable, am I saying anything

Someone told me that they cared
For a second I thought I could share
A sense of peace like we weren't hurling towards doom
But the Sun is shining at night as if it were noon

As if it were noon
As if it were noon
As if it were noon

Dying is an art, but what about the converse
I write out my soul, it burns until you say that I'm worth
More than something anything comparable
Drag down another one, laugh as they fall