Metaphors and the Sacrifices We Make for Them

So is this song morbid, cute or hilarious?

The conversation I have with myself is certainly a little unnerving.

Hannah Jane you are so morbid.

Why? because I like the d-da, d-da, d-da, d-da, d-da D-da, d-da, d-da, d-da, d-da D-da, d-da, d-da, d-da, d-da-da part?

Well, yes you idiot because that’s when that poor Mexican dies.

OMG the Mexican part is a little horrifying.  Why does it have to be a Mexican?

You’re the one who likes the song.  Why do you think it’s a Mexican?

Ok, is this my conscience or a shrink?

Who do you want me to be?

Well, I thought I was having an internal debate with myself about why an upstanding character such as myself would like a song like this, and that my conscience was giving me a pep talk.

What if I’m the Mexican?

OMG you are my conscience.  But why were you stealing electricity?

So that I can be a metaphor of love.