Bitch who knows how I’ll go
Maybe I’ll die fast or maybe I’ll die slow
Now we know that the grave digger
Makes the beat sicker
They wanna linger with or without
The middle finger
It’s too late for my mental state
To be the topic of debate
When I'm six feet down in the dirt
Don’t relate to the hurt
You motherfuckers are the worst
I’ve resisted pessimism for so long
And I got caught up in the system, I was wrong
I’ve resisted pessimism for so long
Our therapeutic, cathartic, misanthropic God
When I die bury me in the internet
When I die bury me in the internet
When I die bury me in the internet
Watch me resurrect
When I die bury me in the internet
When I die bury me in the internet
When I die bury me in the internet
And transcend into the new definition of dead
Put a gun to Elmo’s head
And let’s shoot that motherfucker dead
There’s nothing left of my innocence
My traumas have turned into fetishes
Bandages on bandages
And I swear that there’s no mending this
Obsessed with everything negative
Being birthed into colourful images
Disconnected, I feel so numb
Fuck it, just pull out the plug
And the world goes round and round
I just wanna look down
I can’t wait to tear away the skin
I can’t stand this body that I'm in
Why the fuck would I live in it again?
When I die bury me in the internet
When I die bury me in the internet
When I die bury me in the internet
Watch me resurrect
When I die bury me in the internet
When I die bury me in the internet
When I die bury me in the internet
And transcend into the new definition of dead
