If I live until seven more days
Would my scars turn into legacies?
If I live until seven more days
Would I be the center of the mosh pit?
If I live until seven more days
Would I improve my skills in guns
Would i thrash the underworld
If I live until seven more days
Would my mates be thankful I didn't take that drug?
Behind the bars I run
Into the deep valleys within my heart
They scream,
"The small feeble seeds behind your scars
Are not just dreams of a little girl.
You are brave and strong like a madrigal of the undead
And don't worry about screwing up past actions
For you've been doing nothing but working so hard
To resurrect the old ruins once deconstructed."
If I live up to seven more years
Would I make it as a cognitive science graduate in Norway?
If I live up to seven more years
Would I make a great change, would I sing my blues?
If I live up to seven more years
Would I launch artilleries, would my wars be histories?
♪
In 2024 you won't receive flowers for the things you have done
But you would feel proud that you
Are not a clone trapped in nothingness
And if you say that you're not alright about your circumstances
And there's nothing you can do about it
Then let's make an unison of people who feel the same.
♪
If I live up to seven more centuries
Would I strike like a lightning?
If I live up to seven more centuries
Would I reincarnate as Goddess Freyja of the North?
And if my deathday comes by nature, not by self inflicted scars,
Would I smile on my bed leaving courage that was born from wounds?