Spit at the city from the tops of the towers.
What's not alive can't die so we'll skip out on the flowers.
No funeral service.
We don't have to wear black.
Just flick the lighter and toss it.
Don't ever look back.
This city doesn't care about a stupid eulogy.
This side of life seems so right to me.
Because everything is wrong to me.
Oh, I'm lost.