Birds of a Black feather stick together forever and and they always remember you And all of the you do pass it to the baby birdies and then they remember too Little baby bluebird eyes black forgetting the face of the guy in the mask When you see me baby you scream or will you laugh? Little blue bird, eyes turn black
4 and 20 gory pantone black shredding innards The are fencing lefty scissors horn and hoof as own arpeggiators They piggy back the tombs of all your deadest friends and By the image, green-cheese moon Dead-of-winter shit, tchk! tchk! shit, brother was a face card Crown like a heart-shaped tunnel of woven branches in over his hydro-plaining pace car chase... Wait up let me the bass more Gate of acre Aim to rake the snow off forsaken name here Supposedly closure'l free the out the bosom Personally I think it's a of bullshit Prisoners, tradition is for God he flip the witch against her coven on some dip or play the dozens Now I baptize skips in larvae and records On a little plot with 6 million sentenceenders And the tech support for tragedy's horrendous Teenage operators explaining what bated is Pass, I wish it were something I could on a napkin so you won't feel so detached if it should happen to you privately Publicly your shadows'll cat back to split the button eye and burlap doll Crack the Bats eject like cousin death's Iapdogs ricocheting sonar of the sacrilege Now let me slow this whole shit down for all you half-goat I'll grit my teeth for you I am so completely off the god-damn grid not a question of addressing me, I T's "what do symbols under the dresser mean" Perhaps a little dash of chameleons through the entropy for good/young used a good lung Still, proximity to corpses wasn't nothing to the kid but unforgiving science or horrors Fast forward, my knee in the gut of a "remember that cow in the dean's seems And I know people donated pints to the same pavement but for ash and bone to share a space with strangers seems outrageous, ain't it? Maybe a dialog of that reshapes thejowls and face somehow relates to whatever you have found among a thousand cloned shrines, either way - dope stone lion
And they call to let you know your is dead in a box The crows have the tools to get the out of the box Scientific, ritualistic, headstone foxes still rot I'm not gonna rot, no, fuck snot You can let let you rot, man But I'm not going to I'm not gonna stand atop plot I you friends, but I'm just not On the other hand if your are scattered in the sea I will swim in the sea and you'll be me And if your is scattered at the roots of a tree I climb that tree
Everything you you're hiding shows In the way you view the graves like a string of thrones Messages you'd tucked away for keeps has resurfaced to be heard the butchery and beaks You don't the passengers to pass You want each cow taxidermy'd than the last Mausoleum lighting is a While it might enhance a silhouette it expose a crutch A proud chest to the heavens Holds if we're cutting past the muscle and the tendon And we be cutting past the muscle and the tendon...