Dead

You don't get out that much do ya

Sleeping in the same old soil can really do that ya

You could go anywhere you like, visit your grandkids or take a hike

But man you look rotten, and you never leave your coffin

Oh living people, where have you gone

I'm getting restless and I don't know how to move on

Last year I was picking roses, and now I'm buried decomposing

Man, you don't have to be dead to lose your head

You don't love yourself much do ya

And holding it all inside is like letting the worms crawl through ya