Sometimes I think I died in the rafters that night
Shocked to death, barely 25
Limp limbs, heart electrified

One burnt arm, an open casket for these friends of mine



Make me ashes in your back yard
Portions on the mantle



What if I get to Heaven
To a sign that reads, ?No, your kind's not welcome?

Neither were your questions
Good try, but you've heard how we feel here about intentions



Please get rid of the mess
For the sake of my parents

We know they'll blame themselves
They shouldn't have to see this
Remains of efforts

The best intentions of their only son



Take my things, place them on shelves
As small reminders for everyone else
He stood so tall, but then he fell

Boxes full of ideas that I once held



Make me ashes in your back yard
Portions on the mantle
I tried

When I'm gone will you carry out my intentions



What if I get to Heaven
To a sign that reads, ?No, your kind's not welcome?
Neither were your questions

Good try, but you've heard how we feel here about intentions