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Rotting In My Grave, I Say.

Rotting in my grave I say, rotting in my grave.
My kidneys have liquified, and my heart is now fried.
My skin is peeling, and my nerves lost feeling.
My eyes are rolling and my soul is tolling.
My soul now paying for its sin, this is the best that I've ever been.
Rotting in my grave I say, rotting in my grave.
My mother picked mahogany for the box that now covers me.
I wish it'd been pine. It reminds me of simpler times.
I wonder if my soul went to heaven or hell, I'm a skeleton now so I couldn't tell.
I hope I wrote my will well, so that person will tell my tale. Or maybe they'll just sell my belongings, all for their own money.

I hope the tree eats me. I wonder if I make good soil. Or maybe I just taste like nasty oil.

The times are still passing. And I still hate my casket.
I'm rotting in my grave I say, rotting in my grave. And it gets lonelier day after day. So here I lay, rotting away.
And forever, I will stay.
Rotting in my grave I say, rotting in my grave.