🎃6 FEET DEEP🎃 | bUrNiE Scritch-scratch, My nails are digging inside this trap, Held on all sides, my wooden casket, Buried alive, splinters stickin' into my eyes... Scritch-scratch... scratch-scratch-scritch... Dragging nails inside my casket, No one hears me screaming at them, Buried six feet deep and trapped in a wooden casket... (Gotta move if I wanna keep breathin'!) I woke up here in this place, Too quiet below the earth, Six feet deep. I must've rioted some minds, To wake in my own grave, Suffocating... Every breath costs me my energy... KEEP DIGGING! CRACK THOSE NAILS, MAKE 'EM BLEED! ONLY MINUTES LEFT BEFORE YOUR LUNGS FREEZE! KEEP DIGGING! PUNCH THE WOOD, CRACK ITS BEAMS, DON'T ACCEPT THIS ENDING! KEEP. FUCKING. DIGGING! Dirt is snowing in my eyes, coughin up fluids, Prying the planks one by one, off of my tomb. Slowly moving, anguish is consuming, Making a way back to life, Choking on my ruin. A corpse hits my shoulder, Of course I glance over, Someone I killed last May. Mushrooms are growing outta her face. (Must've ran outta air to breathe.) KEEP DIGGING! KEEP DIGGING! KEEP DIGGING! RARA-AH-RARA-AH-AH! RARA-AH-RARA-AH-AAAAH! KEEP DIGGING! CRACK THOSE NAILS, MAKE 'EM BLEED! ONLY MINUTES LEFT BEFORE YOUR LUNGS FREEZE! KEEP DIGGING! PUNCH THE WOOD, CRACK ITS BEAMS, DON'T ACCEPT THIS ENDING! KEEP. FUCKING. DIGGING! Pets, people, All resting in my- Underground steeple, Crawling, scraping. Making my way, Victim past victim, How deep is this pit? How many things, Have I ended? Just gotta keep digging... Fuck the rest... Fingertips puncture the surface... Hand and fist... Wreaching at open nothingness, Forearm pushing on purchase, Rising higher, a fresh air welcome... But once my head reaches freedom... I stare down the lidless, Eyes of a shotgun... Held by the widowed fiancé... Of one of my late victims...
