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I have dreams,
Of dancing with the dead,
But my feet won't keep the tempo,
A circus of ants,
My feet won't follow suit,

In gods hands there's freedom,
But happiness comes with a price,
Cause there's always two things going on,
There's always Friday night,

My tombstone was made at birth,
My coffin is on my back,
Wrapped in chains I carry burden,
Dressed in tarnished rags,
Wrapped in chains.

Wish I could be like them,
Wish I could get away with murder,
Wish I could get away with it all,
It's their turn to watch me,
And I pray,
I pray that when I fall,
I hit the ground hard enough to kill me,

I always watch the mountains,
As they look down on storms,
Deadringer

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