Dig - Live at Candlestick Park, San Francisco, CA - August 2003
R'rahh!
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I was slowly changing
I would love to beat the face -
Of any mother-fucker that's -
Thinkin' they can change me!
White knuckles grip, pushing through for the gold
If you want a piece of me
I broke the mother-fuckin' mold!
I'm drowning in your wake!
Shit rubbed in my face!
Teething on concrete, gums bleeding!
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I was slowly changing
I struggle in violated space
Sell-out mother-fuckers in the -
Biz that try to fuck me!
Hang from their Tees*, rated 'P.G. insight'
I ain't sellin' my soul -
When there's nothing to buy!
I'm livid in my space!
Pissing in my face!
Fuck you, while you try to fuck me!
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I was
You ain't fuckin' changing me!
(Indiscernible whispering)
Dig!... Dig!... Dig!... Dig!
C'mon, mother fucker, dig!
C'mon, mother fucker, dig!
C'mon, mother fucker, dig!
(Let go!)
Let me help you tie the rope around your neck
Let me help to talk you the wrong way off the ledge
Let me help you hold the Glock against your head
Let me help you tie the rope around your neck
Let me help to talk you the wrong way off the ledge
Let me help you hold the Glock against your head
Let me help you chain the weights onto your legs
Get on the plank, fuck!
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I was slowly changing
Wish you were committing suicide!
Suckin' on a mother-fuckin' tailpipe!
Dead man walking on a tight rope!
Limbless, in the middle of a channel, bobs away!
(*note: "Tees" is another way of saying "T-Shirts")
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I was slowly changing
I would love to beat the face -
Of any mother-fucker that's -
Thinkin' they can change me!
White knuckles grip, pushing through for the gold
If you want a piece of me
I broke the mother-fuckin' mold!
I'm drowning in your wake!
Shit rubbed in my face!
Teething on concrete, gums bleeding!
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I was slowly changing
I struggle in violated space
Sell-out mother-fuckers in the -
Biz that try to fuck me!
Hang from their Tees*, rated 'P.G. insight'
I ain't sellin' my soul -
When there's nothing to buy!
I'm livid in my space!
Pissing in my face!
Fuck you, while you try to fuck me!
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I was
You ain't fuckin' changing me!
(Indiscernible whispering)
Dig!... Dig!... Dig!... Dig!
C'mon, mother fucker, dig!
C'mon, mother fucker, dig!
C'mon, mother fucker, dig!
(Let go!)
Let me help you tie the rope around your neck
Let me help to talk you the wrong way off the ledge
Let me help you hold the Glock against your head
Let me help you tie the rope around your neck
Let me help to talk you the wrong way off the ledge
Let me help you hold the Glock against your head
Let me help you chain the weights onto your legs
Get on the plank, fuck!
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I am rearranging
Dig! Bury me underneath
Everything that I was slowly changing
Wish you were committing suicide!
Suckin' on a mother-fuckin' tailpipe!
Dead man walking on a tight rope!
Limbless, in the middle of a channel, bobs away!
(*note: "Tees" is another way of saying "T-Shirts")
Credits
Writer(s): Greg Tribbett, Chad L. Gray, Matthew James Mcdonough, Ryan Daniel Martinie
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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