I am gonna become a ghost!
Today’s the day I finally do it.
“GONNA KILL MYSELF,” I scream out loud,
But evokes not any response.
I am, I am, I am less present than a ghost
So if I die, maybe someone at last’ll turn my way and
please see me.

“I’ll be a star,” I boast at the same time,
As I am a man who will become a ghost.
Poor little thing you better give him a pat and a
Sweety bread treat.
I am, I am, I am I am less present than a ghost
So if I die, will your glance be cast fast along straight this way,
To behold me—
“Well are you not just an attention whore?
Kill yourself already,” the gentle breeze says.
(A FUCKED-UP TRANSFORMATION TOOOOO…..: GHOST!)

In the corner there’s a desk easy forgot, beside the window,
Shouldever our eyes, perchance to meet, ain’t that be spectacular!
And now sun shines in, upon just an empty seat,
And yeah it is a little sad, but we all saw it coming—yeah we did.

(WHAT THE HELL AM I? WHAT THE HELL AM I? WHAT THE HELL AM I?
SO A GHOST I’LL BE! SO A GHOST I’LL BE! SO A GHOST I’LL BE!)