Live: # 2 Gravedigger

How dark is it in your coffin of despair?

In the deep hole that you dug even deeper?

You brought a shovel to your pity party,

then sealed your tomb shut with nails made of thin air.

I bet its quite disorienting, isn’t it?

You wallow in your corner of filth, mud, and muck,

but complain about the wetness of morning dew, with an interminable shiver.

Your body convulses. A self-induced seizure.

You knee-Jerk; Clawing at the crumbling edges of your infinite pit of shame,

expecting the roots to grab hold of you and drag you out;

A welfare state of mind. You lazy fuck,

You fail to realize that you are merely five feet under, and refuse to stand tall to see it.

If only you did, you would observe the sunrise from the east again,

you would feel the fresh air, smell the flowers, and listen to the trees dance in the wind.

You could climb out of your own free will, and have a picnic on the cemetery lawn.

Only then would you notice that my hole is already filled and mowed over.