I have a death fantasy
Death of my aesthetics, this falsing fiction carved in my way
Death of my image, of my intellect, my all is okay
Death of my pretty and my cozy and my craft and my grace
Cannot keep rushing the gate
The death fantasy
Projected spaces in your frameworks, they do not go to me
To fit inside your empty visions, livid bird in a cage
Death of my hustle, my trajectory, my style and my lane
That flagrant look on your face
I have the death fantasy
Eh, eh
Ha-ha-la-la-lujah, I'm free
Eh, eh
A charming death fantasy
Ha-ha-ha-la-la-lujah I'm free
Hey, keep your hands off of me
What's to be said of your stage?
Have changed the title but have yet to write a single new page
Privilege is cheap if you can't be free, so I said
Seems like it only repeats
I have the death fantasy
