(chorus)
I made my bed
So I can lie on it
So I can cry on it
Now I'm wondering why
I made this bed

Cameras hidden in my ceiling fan
Excuse me but where was you, God
that long hot afternoon
Drag my head across the floor
Now I'm living dead

And the cold dew's stinging
There's vultures singing
I caught a vision of my death
but there is
One sweet poison I'm immune to
Don't wake me
cause my dreaming's seeming true