Buried behind
This petty flesh
Is this constant feeling
Of Regret
With every thought
And every word
Reminds me
Of those I don't deserve

I have this bad [bad word] habit
Of making things so much
Worse
With a heavy head
Ill wear misfortune as a
Curse

I'm a carpenter carving his own coffin
Deserving of this grave I'll dig
With my bare hands not with any shovels
For mistakes I soon wont forgive x2