[Intro: Sara Teasdale]
When I am dead, and over me, bright April shakes out her rain-drenched hair
Though you should lean above me broken-hearted, I shall not care
For I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful when rain bends down the bough
And it shall be more silent and cold-hearted than you are now

[Verse 1: Zotiyac]
Off lead, all done
So, lift me on the pyre
The feast is over
Analepsis expire, lights out, I pray
Don't toss me with the fire
I'm the hottest low life out this bitch
Still, I can't get no higher
So, I'm gone
So, I'm gone (Bitch, I'm gone)
So, I'm gone (Bitch, I'm gone)
So, I'm gone (Bitch, I'm gone)
So, I'm gone
Won't catch me sleepin'
Pretty fish up in the sea, slow on the weekend
So, bitch I'm gone, so long
They say, "Cortez, why you gone for so long?"
Fuck up out my face I'm tryna write this song, you did me wrong
I don't wanna be somewhere I don't belong, or writing stone
Bitch ain't no clone, I stand alone
And I ain't irreplaceable, but ain't no copy shown
I must be strong if I can do it on my own
I'm young as fuck, but I feel grown
You see the way I change my tone
Even in bed, I ain't at home
But when I'm gone
All blood and bone
Don't shed a tear when you get that all on the phone
It ain't your fault baby, I feel like that death is crawlin' to my dome
I'ma make myself a fucking stepping stone inside my throne
[Instrumental]

[Verse 2: Zotiyac]
Funny how fakin' a smile can make you look okay
You tell 'em that you wanna die and they all be like "No way"
And they start sayin' stupid shit, "Life isn't easy"
"You should get used to it, you won't go through it"
"You wanna die? Prove it then"
You don't what is like to learn your birth is a curse
And you stop caring 'bout your purpose
And perfect becomes something that makes you nervous
So, pills and the purple is all that you purchase
And all your deserving will be at your service
But as I observe
I can see that your worth is invisible to you when leavin' the curtains
But open that shit up, indeed you reverse it
Until you do that
It will keep you deserted
Inside'll be hurtin'
Inside of your person
And even the holiest holy of merchants
Will find out you can't come out fine 'cause of churches
[?] behind the blinds isn't workin'
So, become the pilot but mind is a turban
And fly us to where we will like it for certain
(Please)