Sinking to the bottom

Caught in a well
Into which I fell
Clawing at the stones
Fingers worn to the bone

You might say I’m in a rut
On my wrist, an open cut
But I’ll still tell you
I’m fine to do

It’s not me in that well;
It’s you that’s fell
From the bullet in your head
From the bullet. Now you’re dead

When you’re floating in the water belly up
There seams to be no way up
But there is one way down
Just try not to drown