I like to think about dying, it's fun on a Saturday night

To wonder when we're goin' under, when they're gonna turn out the lights

You prefer a party, meet up with all of your friends

Go see a play, sip some charnonnay never thinkin' about the end.

I'm content with some misery; there's nothing I like more

Than an existential crisis, I'm just thinkin' bout how nice it is

To curl up in a ball on the floor; please take me to the misery store.

The misery store is stocked full of treats; boxes of grief and despair.

Salt for your wounds, knives you can twist; and I can help you make your shopping list.

I like to think about suffering, it can be someone else's or mine,

As long as there's variety, depression and anxiety, I'd say that it will do just fine.

I have trouble comprehending how you seem to find joy each day

You marvel at sunrises, expecting nice surprises, ignoring our impending decay

I'm just fine with my misery, a blanket wet and cold

It's a way to be sure I don't forget there's no cure for what awaits us when we grow old

Please show me where the misery's sold.

The misery store is open all night, every single day of the year

Just trade in your joy and feelings of hope, and I can help you find a sturdy rope

I like to think about sorrow, fear, shame and regret,

Things we could have done, all the years already gone,

Why even get out of bed?

I like to think about dying, it's fund on a Saturday night

To wonder when we're goin' under, when they're gonna turn out the light

I'm just fine with some misery, there's nothing I like more

Than an existential crisis, I'm just thinkin' bout how nice it is

To curl up in a ball on the floor; please take me to the misery store.

Please take me to the misery store.