Dead march

The front of church is the lid of coffin

You're wearing a cross up on your chest
You are nothing, you're already dead
Your home is your hole, your room is a grave
You're buried alive by the one who must save

All those who believe in heaven and other shit
This is your dead march

All you life is the big god's joke
You're a pawn when I'm a queen
My mind consist of
The scenes you have never seen