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lyrics

POE

I want my death to be monetized
Each cent going into the wallet of a bootlegger
The search for fame will be complete
I know it
true artistry will bury alongside me
Paychecks only last a couple days
This wallet can no longer pay bills with attention
I want my death to be advertised
Each person finally knowing my name
The rent will be paid with my corpse
One hundred years is the test of time
I should be in the club with the elite
I am only a man
Lusting after the impossible
With the bottle
as my murderer
Facedown in the muddy street
I want my death to be romanticized
have every person obsess over my life
let me feel the warm love I craved
when my heart was still beating

credits

from everyone in the room is fake, released September 20, 2021

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damon reynolds Kingsville, Texas

graveyard poet

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