Buried Alive (Intro)

Swedish sweets in the corner of my casket... can move
Yet i stay still even though i want to grasp it
Digging deeper holes down my dreary death jacket
Veins filled with mold body cold sobbing... drastic
More lethal than a seagul's swarm
Sunday morning
Outfit on
Trying not to get spit on by their foul paste
Wet and warm
Dodging them
Looking high
Trying not
To get hit but I
Didnt watch that dingy road doused in reckless rabits
Head still aimed to the sky what a wreckless habit
Stepped onto the curb so absurd and now ill have it
Car passing this way no delay
Crashed it
Sleeping uncontrollaby
On a bed thats not mine
Laying here sorely
Too bad its a fine
Seems like im dead but
Turns out its not my time
Eyes still never opened so i lower to dirt
Planting me back first but my roots will not disperse
Layers of earth and a door close on my birth
No blood in my legs
No thoughts to beleive
Swedish sweets molding in the corner of my casket...
Swedish sweets were my favorite

I know i wont live but its hard not to fight
The brain on my shoulders has a still working light
Theres nothing i can do no word no feeling or no might
The weight on your lungs when youre buried alive

I know i wont live but its hard not to fight
The brain on my shoulders has a still working light
Theres nothing i can do no word no feeling or no might
The weight on your lungs when youre buried alive

Sweet but molded i see my passage has unfolded
The deep resolve to neatly hault the path i took to hold it
Up to the drastic measures taken from forehead
And whether not this casket will keep me til im broken
And rotted
Feathers and my sockets
Torn to peices tethered
Need to breathe but it wont process
Through my teeth an airway will not create a pocket
To my lungs
I guess im done
The sweet wrongs have now rocket
Out of pocket huh

I know i wont live but its hard not to fight
The brain on my shoulders has a still working light
Theres nothing i can do no word no feeling or no might
The weight on your lungs when youre buried alive

I know i wont live but its hard not to fight
The brain on my shoulders has a still working light
Theres nothing i can do no word no feeling or no might
The weight on your lungs when youre buried alive

Swedish sweets in the corner of my casket... can move
Yet i stay still even though i want to grasp it
Digging deeper holes down my dreary death jacket
Veins filled with mold body cold sobbing... drastic
More lethal than a seagul's swarm
Sunday morning
Outfit on
Trying not to get spit on by their foul paste
Wet and warm
Dodging them
looking high
Trying not
To get hit but I

Ah shh