The acrid smell of a forced suicide
Mixed with bitter taste of disillusion
Rising in sheets from under my feet
Death in the graveyard of confusion

Laying inside this musky black box
Breathing once tasteless odors of life
Exhaling death with each and every breath
Bearing scars from the Grim Reapers knife

Primordial vomit from deep under the earth
Coughed up in stench from the breath of Satan
Wrapping a putrid and vile solution of bile
In confusion I stared at them vacant

Are they all here to give me a ride
Passenger of death or just an illusion
Confusion reigns king in the suicide ring
Around the graveyard of confusion