Kicked stiff again and again in the ribs
By the face of a bitch, a shaman, and a fish
Rolling me into a grave so they can get on
My mouth bleeds like a waterfall
Climbing out only shows me emptiness
But I can finally rest

Waterfall of unred drool on my chin
As consciousness comes crashing in
Clinging to the edge of this linen grave
And I see one of the same faces
Asking me what's wrong babe?
What's wrong, babe?