I died about about a week ago,

and as so many people go,

I was berried deep below,

six feet below

But what happens when we die?

Do our souls join with the sky?

Or are we taken by the scythe?

bellow, six feet below.

My soul sored quickly into the sky,

and I watched as time went by,

below, six beet below

Time went backward from my death

and I watched from my last rest,

as lovers came and hastily dressed

below, six feet below.

Time destroyed great empires,

as all the world began to aspire,

into the serging skies of fire,

below, six feet below.

And then the world went away,

never to see another day,

and I watch the stars die as they along the way,

below, six feet below

So now I wait to be born again,

given back to my own again,

given flesh bone and a home again,

below, six feet below