I lay in a casket, I know I am dead, so why bother with what anyone says.
This graveyard is filled with the dead and they are my friends.
Give them a sneer, give them a stare, we really don't care.
Just go away until you figure out why you are here.
To torture us with your screams as you beat us under the ground never to be heard or found.
Your heart may have stopped, but your brain has not.
One day you'll realize the pain, as you lay there day by day, in a coffin forgotten in your grave, screaming in pain.
Flowers may have come once or twice a year, but it doesn't mean they know where you've gone or even that you're here.
Kids run and scream as they step all over your grave, how can you blame them they're just afraid.
We may be different, we may be dead just dust and bones, but we feel the pain as you step all over are graves never to be found.
Around that corner is another grave just like your own but a different name and different year they came to be in there grave I don't know there story but I got a knife in the back and a hole in my chest and that's how my casket was filled with rotting flesh.
