Lyrics Peter Broderick - Below It

In the sight of eight lakes
In the sound of screaming girls
In the sight of black, black, black
In the view of ground, ground, ground
Ground, ground, ground
Below, below me
Beneath, beneath me
Below, below me
Beneath, beneath me

In the sight of red, red, red
Red blood
In the thought of getting caught
Caught under the water
Under the water
Below, below it
Beneath, beneath it
Below, below it
Beneath, beneath it

And with his fingers he would push
And with his fingers he would pull
And with his fingers he would push to come back up
And with his fingers he would push
And with his fingers he would pull
And with his fingers he would push to come back up

Below, below it
Beneath, beneath it
Below, below it
Beneath, beneath it