I want to be dead with my friends, 

I want to be dead with my friends, 

Wide-eyed, brilliant, dynamic rest 

I want to be dead with my friends. 

Where the iron sharpens the iron. 

I want to be dead with my friends 

(Mother load, unforgettable hands?) 

Let boredom cease the beating of our purple hearts, Against this, 

even gods fight violently in vain, 

What chance could we have stood? 

We're the last of the lost, 

but now we're the first of the fashionably late.| 



Loved ones decompose 

You'll dance around their bones 

Most of us are holy ghosts 

All of us are holy ghosts 

We made the scene when we made a scene 

And though it was brief, 

it meant everything. 

Oh what a pity, 

now they're bound to make us saints. 

Against this, even (boys) fight violently in vain, 

What chance could we have stood? 

We're the last of the lost, 

but now we're the first of the fashionably late. 

I refuse to be the only man put to rest in a mass grave. 

You were all there with me.