I am smellin' like the rose
That somebody gave me
On my birthday deathbed
I am smellin' like the rose
That somebody gave me
'Cause I'm dead and bloated

I am smellin' like the rose
That somebody gave me
On my birthday deathbed
I am smellin' like the rose
That somebody gave me
'Cause I'm dead and bloated

Oh, oh, yeah, yeah
And she says it's natural
I feel I've come of age
When she peeks I start to run
Oh, oh, yeah, yeah
And she says it's natural
I feel I've come of age
When she peeks I start to run

You can't swallow what I'm thinkin'
You can't swallow what I'm thinkin'

I am smellin' like the rose
That somebody gave me
On my birthday deathbed
I am trampled under sole
Of another man's shoes
Guess I walked too softly

Oh, oh, yeah, yeah
And she says it's natural
I feel I've come of age
When she peeks I start to run
Oh, oh, yeah, yeah
And she says it's natural
I feel I've come of age
When she peeks I start to run

You can't swallow what I'm thinkin'
You can't swallow what I'm thinkin'

I run through the world
Thinkin' 'bout tomorrow
Thinkin' 'bout tomorrow
I run through the world
Thinkin' 'bout tomorrow
Thinkin' 'bout tomorrow

I am smellin' like the rose
That somebody gave me
On my birthday deathbed
I am smellin' like the rose
That somebody gave me
'Cause I'm dead and bloated

I run through the world
Thinkin' 'bout tomorrow
Thinkin' 'bout tomorrow
I run through the world
Thinkin' 'bout tomorrow
Thinkin' 'bout tomorrow
I run through the world
Thinkin' 'bout tomorrow
Thinkin' 'bout tomorrow
I run through the world
Thinkin' 'bout tomorrow
Thinkin' 'bout tomorrow

I am smellin' like the rose
That somebody gave me
On my birthday deathbed
I am smellin' like the rose
That somebody gave me, somebody gave me
Somebody gave me
On my birthday deathbed

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Dean Deleo, Eric Kretz, Robert Emile Deleo, Scott Richard Weiland