| This blister has made a permanent stay
|
| Upon the fingers plagued by a hand
|
| A hand that couldn’t bare to raise up, be seen
|
| And speak like a man
|
| Bury me, let me lay
|
| I’ll be right there when you look away
|
| Bury me, let me lay
|
| Remember me when I’m dead I’m dead
|
| Asphyxiating in water so cold
|
| Frigid straight to the marrow
|
| Pushed down, buried deep inside
|
| Where no light can shine through
|
| To live within weakened thoughts and brittle bones
|
| Bury me, let me lay
|
| I’ll be right there when you look away
|
| Bury me, let me lay
|
| Remember me when I’m dead I’m dead
|
| You start to go under
|
| The waterline feels like a noose
|
| With every step the surface gets closer to your neck
|
| This sovereign baptism is the last thing you’ll have the chance to disrespect
|
| Wicked tongues lick the silver spoon
|
| And the timid become the footpath
|
| While you turn away
|
| Bury me, let me lay
|
| I’ll be right there when you look away
|
| Bury me, let me lay
|
| Punishment waits impatiently
|
| The blind follower requests a closing pardon
|
| There are no ears to hear this false sermon
|
| Your faulty judgment displayed so clouded
|
| Remember me when I’m dead I’m dead |