Plain Pine Box کے بول

Far below the living in a plain pine box I was put to rest for the their sanctuary The bells they ring but not for me Forced to pay my sins in holy remedy But my eyes still bleed And my hands are clinched Far below the sun Buried on these hallowed grounds Terror in their eyes at the sight of my remains Unearthly wounds and scars Ignoring my last wish to remain godless and free They wash their hands of me Exhume my bones and take me home Far from the cries of the dead Save my soul from this sacred ground I see the smiles of the dead I'm forced below against my will Reveled by illusions of my last will