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lirik lagu 16 – abdul firfirey

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(bum bum bum bum badadada
bum bum bum bum badadada
bum bum bum badum bum bum
badum bum bum bum badadada)

living younger days
basking in my praise
i don’t even know if
i can feel the same
cos he’s still here
cos he’s still there
i can hear his voice
i can hear him beckon*

*ing me to
keep down low
it’s a safe move
but i can’t control
who i could become
who i might be
not bookish shy and
timid firfir*

*ey, let him free
he’s been locked up way too long
hear me breathe
as i sing my song
and i get that you hate me
but this is me, i’m alone, so
i’m just gonna die at the age of sixteen

wait, what? no!

i don’t wanna die at the age of sixteen
i don’t wanna die at the age of sixteen
but you won’t encourage me to be thinking like i do, so
i don’t wanna die at the age of sixteen

admittedly, i’m a mess at heart
my tricks and lies have gone way too far
i lied to you all, falsified my life
is this my title track?
(no, you said “falsified”, which you also did in burn the blasphemer.)
oh, right
(and you literally said “here’s falsify” in “scratch!”, if anything, there’s your title track there)
ah, thanks
ahem

still
all my friends are heathens, i don’t take it slow
if they’re p*ssing me off then i’ll let em know
five years is a fair bit
i’m asking you to listen, not to like it
my choice in friends hijacks who i wanna be
i’m only g*y if you want me to be
laden with toxicity
do i choose the wrong crowd, or is that crowd me?
“oh my god, have you heard this new tune?
it’s from the pricey studio, autotune
litters his dreamy voice”
if i’m starting at the bottom, d’ya think i have a choice?

no, no i don’t
and i deal with how it sounds
and no, no i won’t
hype it up to be torn down
and i get that i’m crazy, and i’m lazy
but i worked nine whole months on a song!
am i wrong to be agitated so much?
so much, so much, hey!

i don’t wanna die at the age of sixteen
i don’t wanna die at the age of sixteen
but you won’t encourage me to be thinking like i do, so
i don’t wanna die at the age of sixteen

my songs are written
my hands are cold
my friends are splitting
and it’s all my fault
yes, i said it again
it’s all my fault
and i’ll say it again
it’s all my fault
i’m so obsessed
with who i am
but i’m more so
with who i can
i say this cos
i could be so much more
but i’m holding me back, and my name’s the conversationer!

yes, my name’s the conversationer…

come and raid a hobbycraft with me
there’s none nearby, nearest’s in the city
away from my friends
and my family

uwu, nuzzles you
and then gives you a pet
my face is hid from view
owo, what’s this? what’s this? what’s this?
get ready to hate me
if i say that i’m a… (got you there, didn’t i?)
what if i died at the age of sixteen?

(in an easyjet flight?)

what if i died at the age of sixteen?
would even my friends try to remember me?
i’ll say that i’m lucky
if they’re with me more than day three, so
i’m not gonna die at the age of sixteen

(i saw that, tracked girl down
did crazy photoshoot with girl
girl feel better
girl have more twitter followers than me now)