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Buried Alive

Gretchen Witt

There's a gun up to your headThere's a shackle on your wristAnd still you don't know whenStill, you're not convinced
There's a flame against your chinThere's a fire at your kneesAnd still you say the light is dimYou say you still can't see
The boogie man is at your tableThe grim reaper's at your doorHoly Terror is after youBut you don't know who for
So put it off another dayDecisions can always waitThere's no point in laboringWhen you can leave it up to fate
Questions have their hooks in youBut you can not decideNow consequence has come like truthTo bury you, bury you alive
There's a wise man in the dumpsterThere's a prophet on the floorThere's an angel on the pavementAnd you swear they are not yours
There's a dead soul in the basementThere are flowers down the drainThere's happiness that bled to deathBut you just feel the same
The boogie man is at your tableThe grim reaper's at your doorHoly Terror is after youBut you don't know who for
So put it off another dayDecisions can always waitThere's no point in laboringWhen you can leave it up to fate
Questions have their hooks in youBut you can not decideNow consequence has come like truthTo bury you, bury you alive
There's an agony in your eyesThere's been torture on your skinAnd still you say you'll take your timeStill, you say it all depends...

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