my lungs fill with mud and I cannot breathe,
my bones crack under the earth's crushing weight,
the worms sing to me when I try to sleep,
there is a vile beauty in their pure hate.
it is quiet, ever so quiet, and so it shall remain,
I am alive, torn from the skies, cast into this wretched grave,
whose name shall I curse, what deity can I blame?
when the earth herself has ruined me, there is no one else to frame.
......
my lungs fill with mud and I cannot breathe,
my bones crack under the earth's crushing weight,
the worms sing to me when I try to sleep,
there is a vile beauty in their pure hate.
it is quiet, ever so quiet, and so it shall remain,
I am alive, torn from the skies, cast into this wretched grave,
whose name shall I curse, what deity can I blame?
when the earth herself has ruined me, there is no one else to frame.
......