Tekster: The Casket Lottery. Ever Since Sulfur.

Anchored to pride.
Another cold cold day
to freeze me out.
But I'm still here,
and I'm not going anywhere.
You still sit there
in your basement
just rotting away
anchored to pride.
Since sulfur I've been wishing
wood grained, bloodstained, and willing.
It's all too familiar,
it's all too real.
Just waiting
to see just how I feel.
I'm pretty sure I'm dying.
I'm positive I don't mind.
You'll stay there without me,
and I don't mind