"Six Feet Under" lyrics

"Six Feet Under"

Six feet under the ground and I still look around
I thought you were my friend, but where are you now?
Six feet under the ground and I still look around
I thought you were my friend, but where are you now?

Where, where, where, where are you now?
Where, where, where, where, where are you now?

You came into my life like a flood
You moved into my veins like a drug
You rushed into my heart
I'm addicted to your love but you don't know

Where, where, where, where are you now?
Where, where, where, where, where are you now?

You touch me, you please me
You leave me, oh, how could you now?
You bury me deeper than death, oh how?
You ask me for patience, you went down on me like you're out of town
Oh, what is the reason, the season of love you've outgrown?

Where, where, where, where are you now?
Where, where, where, where, where are you now?
Where, where, where, where are you now?
Where, where, where, where, where are you now?
Where are you? Where are you?
Where are you? Where are you?
Where are you? Where are you?
Where are you? Where are you?

The old man was a young man once
Don't discount the old man
Look in the mirror, you'll see who he was
And the old girl, she tripped through the flowers once
Don't discount the old girl
Look at your mama, you know what she's made of

Love
It ain't for the weak of heart
It ain't for the fearful
It ain't for the creeper in the dark
Love
Somebody to grow old beside
It ain't for the fairweather ones
Who only cheat themselves when they lie

The old man was a young man once
Don't discount the old man
Look in the mirror, you'll see who he was
And the old girl, she tripped through the flowers once
Don't discount the old girl
Look at your mama, you know what she's made of

Love
It ain't for the weak of heart
It ain't for the fearful
It ain't for the creeper in the dark
Love
Somebody to grow old beside
It ain't for the fairweather ones
Who only cheat themselves when they lie

The old man was a young man once
Don't discount the old man
Look in the mirror, you'll see who he was
And the old girl, she tripped through the flowers once
Don't discount the old girl
Look at your mama, you know what she's made of


Writer(s): Lindsey Troy, Julie Scott Edwards
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