The clock strikes 8 at night,
I here the crows taking flight,
A tender knock at my door,
Then comes more.
I call out for whoever to enter,
my roommate steps in and says that it's time for dinner.
He walks away slowly with a simple grin,
I start to get this feeling that something is wrong again.
I start walk out and the lights go out,
I then hear someone from downstairs shout.
I grab my knives and rush to the sound,
Covered in darkness I try to look around.
The lights cut on and people shout surprise,
Scared me so bad that my pulse started to rise.
It started with one,
But they added more for my age just for fun.
Happy Birthday to you,
And many years too.
I think of a wish and blow out the candles,
Something was wrong, this seems like a scandal.
It was too good to be true,
Nothing was right, it made me feel blue.
Then it hits me, a knife to the chest,
No longer left alive finally laid to rest.
It's cold in this whole, my lonely gravesite,
No warmth, shelter, just the memory of that candle light.
I made my wish and it was to much to handle,
All I have to do now is blow out this last candle.
