The worst is yet to come.
Your casket's almost done.
Life wont ever keep you young,
baby teeth from bitter sons.
We're planted too soon, last year's winter yet to fall.
It never snows here, but we're chilled all the same.
The worst is yet to come.
Your casket's almost done.
Life wont ever keep you young,
baby teeth from bitter sons.
The sun's no pretty thing when its all you know,
no warmth can reach us here, down in the valley.
Roadside roses for those we dont miss,
settle down and calm yourself.
The worst is yet to come.
Your casket's almost done.
Life wont ever keep you young,
baby teeth from bitter sons.
You hope that you can smile without faith,
slow your roll and take a breath now, son.
We've fallen hard from lower places,
6 feet down, we wont find any silver.
Limestone coats the walls of your grave,
it all worked out,
you and your kingdom finally come.
The worst is yet to come.
Your casket's almost done.
Life wont ever keep you young,
baby teeth from bitter sons.
