you dig right in me without a spoon of a hole and when i walk now the wound has grown by the years you kiss my brown eye almost a shell of a man school haunts the children which makes me sick til i die sick til i die shame crowns the waste that falls from me stark crawls the frame of used to be you kiss my brown eye almost a shell of a man school haunts the children which makes me sick til i die sick til i die you dig right in me the wound has grown by the years home haunts the children which makes me sick til i die