666 Feet Under (Based On Real Events)

Bleeding yellow roses
That sprout and take root
They grow into my life
And slowly begin to take over
I feel the pain
Of the thorns stabbing into my temples
A crown of thorns that I sewed
For my Jesus

We were so scared
And the excitement rolled over us
Like that car rolled over you
On the highway two years ago
And I laughed
Because I thought it was funny
To roll across the street
Like tumbleweeds across barren desert sands

The coke stains
That I spilled on my shirt
Are beginning to sink into my skin

Remember her?
Yeah, just two days ago
She decided to fly
(though a windshield)
The song on the radio in that car
Was her song
Their song
Our song

But those flowers keep on blooming
And lovers keep pushing up daises
I’ve tried in vain
To push them into the ground
But the sun’s a-calling
And so is that distant door
That leads to highways
Littered with
(bodies)
Life

Plastered Jesus Christ our Savoir
Hanging from a cross
Just like he hung from
A lighting fixture
In his living room
A year ago

Jesus didn’t leave a note, but he did
It was in red ink
I call it red ink
His wrists were covered with it then
His head cocked in a happy way
But when they laid him in the casket
They licked all the red ink away
He looked dead

I keep stumbling through this poison
That you dig your fangs into
Your death; yes, that’s what they call it
It hurts me
But these yellow roses
Keep on a-blooming
And they are rotten and disintegrating
Like you are underground

Dirt and blood
Only mix
In war
And that is what this is:
Me against the soil
That keeps you away from me
And they call me insane
But at least I’m not the dead one
Six hundred and sixty-six feet under