this coffin isn’t big enough for me,
silk, satin and lace surrounding three,
i hate being dressed up they’ve got me looking f**ked up,
i want out and no ones stopping me.
my finger nails have grown strong enough
inch long, sharp, ripping through this stuff
wood shavings falling in my face,
who could stand the smell of this place,
how much more can i bear,
i’ve broken through the last layer.
arise from the dead, awoken from the stench,
bodys that are decomposing, thousands of them decayed and bloating,
the reek of them magnifies by how old and when they died,
the smell of these corps’ decomposing gags me odors of theme corroding,
i must get away from this peutred [?] stench until then i will not rest.
the soil pours in at a steady rate,
falls on me and i push it all away,
my bed is getting filled up, my body starts to move up,
through the hole in the lid that i have ripped away.
the weight of the dirt falls on me it’s broken every bone in my body,
kicking fractured arms and legs about, won’t be much longer until i’m out,
i’m getting close, i’m gaining my site, poke my fingers through to the day
the deceased – sense of smell
detects rot – and awakens this lifeless sh*ll
now i claw – from hallowed ground
to this reeking stench – i’m no longer bound