Funeral Chic - Spit and Crawl Lyrics

Spit on the dirt, dance on the grave.
Covered in mud, show em how we behave.
Throw what you can upon my stone.
Even Jesus liked to run with the poor.

Spit. Crawl.

Call the coroner, call the priest
Tell em all I'm down on my knees.
Hammer the nails, crown of thorns.
Even Jesus didn't ask to be born.

Goddammit, why the f*ck am I still alive?

If it don't kill me, I don't want it.
If it keeps me alive, it's f*cking garbage.
Nobody ever asks, so go on and use me.
Tie me down, f*ck me up, choke me, abuse me.