By the time you read this, I will already be dead
Do not reply to this, it is only to be read
By the time you read this, I will already be dead
Do not reply to this, but notify my next of kin
Self administrate your estate,
Pick up the pieces and give them away
Let them take all the things they want and dispose of yourself
Photos and notes go into the sink
Under all the hot water the faucet could give
Now my dreams are just running ink
Going down the dream
By the time you read this, I will already be gone
Do not reply to this, but realize what you have done
By the time you read this, it will already be true
Do not reply to this, but realize what you made me do
Oh, oh
By the time you read this, I will have gone the way good men go
When they go bad, where they go bad
By the time you read this, I will have gone to the place where good men go
Where they go wrong, when they go wrong
By the time you read this, I will already have been changed
Do not reply to this, after I've experienced maximum pain
No longer good to anyone, and never would be again
Know that I spent my final days, endlessly tying the endless loose ends
One last look around the place, with sun shining into empty room
For the final time I close the door that will open for someone new
The only change I make before I leave, is in the bedroom of my dreams
Where I covered the walls in deep blue paint, rather than my blood and my brains
By the time you read this, I will already be dead
Do not reply to this, it is only to be read
By the time you read this, I will already be dead
Writer(s): David Gold
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