This is not the death that I wanted
But it's the death that I got
The bleeding started around Christmas
And I was dead by March
I tried to find God
I wrote the New York Times
I drank my friend's blood for the headlines
I'll make a good-looking ghost
This is not the death I wanted
But it's the death that I got
The bleeding started around Christmas
And I was dead by March
I picked out my ghost
I wrote Thank You cards
I want Central Park to be my graveyard