[Intro: Frantic shout-rap male MC, frantic, over creaking floorboards] Six weeks in the farmhouse out on Vale Road Every morning the same, and I'm losing my hold [Verse 1: Frantic shout-rap male MC, frantic, shouted] First week I figured it was just the move Little mud on the sheets, little mud on the shoe Second week, the shovel by the back door wet Blade still dripping and I ain't dug yet Third week, dirt packed under every nail Scrubbed till I bled and the water ran pale So I changed the deadbolts, threw the keys in the well Tied my ankle to the bedpost with a knot from hell Fourth week, the knot still tied when I wake But the field out back got a hole like a lake [Pre-Hook: Frantic shout-rap male MC, frantic, climbing] Something use my hands while I'm out like a light Something know the way to the field every night [Hook: Frantic shout-rap male MC, full chest, shouted] Woke up with the dirt in my hands again Woke up in the field where the hole begins Bolt every door and I still get in Woke up with the dirt in my hands again [Verse 2: Frantic shout-rap male MC, frantic, faster] So I strapped a trail cam to the post by the hole Battery full, card in, let the thing roll Woke up at dawn with my nails packed black Pulled the card out the cam and I played it back Two hours of the field lying still as a stone Then I come out the house like it's not my own Knot on my ankle untied in a bow Rope dragging neat in the frost below Walk past the camera with my eyes rolled white Bare feet in the grass with the shovel held tight Down to the hole where the pines go thin And I watch myself dig like I'm digging for kin [Hook: Frantic shout-rap male MC, full chest, shouted] Woke up with the dirt in my hands again Woke up in the field where the hole begins Bolt every door and I still get in Woke up with the dirt in my hands again [Bridge: Frantic shout-rap male MC, timestamp readout, frantic, shovel scrapes under every bar] Three twelve, I'm digging in the field out back Three fourteen, hole getting deep and black Three twenty, I'm down to my waist in the clay Three thirty-three, and the dirt start to give way Something scraping up from under, slow and steady Coming up to meet me like it's been ready [Final Hook: Frantic shout-rap male MC, full chest, shouted, beat crashes back] Woke up with the dirt in my hands again Woke up in the field where the hole begins Bolt every door and I still get in Woke up with the dirt in my hands again [Outro: Frantic shout-rap male MC, frantic, last shovel scrape rings out and fades under the low bass] Halloween night and the cam still on Two shovels going and the knot is gone Woke up with the dirt in my hands again [End]
