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I'm tortured by what I've done with my decaying life. I've failed to cope with my worthless existence. There's nothing left inside, everyday I am dying. An empty shell without a soul to sell. Iam the dead, crawling from my grave. Rising from where I once laid. Scratching at the coffin walls. No one seems to hear my calls. Dirt is stacked up 3 feet high, in the ground is where I lie. The truth so clear, my heart is not here. It belongs to another that eats the fear. I am the dead crawling from my grave. Rising from where I once laid. Scratching at the coffin walls. No one seems to hear my calls |
