Crows 2

[Intro 2x]

Watch your step, Watch your mouth

We all know the way that a punk goes out

[Verse 1]

4 and 21 crows

None go south

For the supper when a punk goes out

Checkerboard of mothballed death-forms

Hauled via vaudeville canes

And encased where the claw marks wane off broadway the god way

Watch, our father

Commuters from the farms with news of el Chupacabra

Who transfuse soup out a fresh punk skull

Dumb full blood suckers

Only the chum suffers

Pine box butcher

Encouraging poor lighting

Said “a pall bore's not a sure sign of jarred lightning"

Harsh, that's how the yellow spine-diner was born

Feral feeding that strung his organs up like tire swing art

Chippin' a drippy set of broke bone grinders

More for the hive mind

Less for the land mine finders

Fine, no defacto leaders in the eatery

Unless you count the way they led his heart through his tuxedo tee

Straight out the front

[Verse 2]

4 and 22

Cue the cut throat mouth

Chew together when a punk goes out

Etiquette of tart-tongued ghouls

Never run truck jewels

Run a culinary school for gluttony-drunk wolves

In guttural grunts

Smothering buttery lung ramen

Early sign of punk shows up on the diagnostic

Hm, pardon if I seem stand off-ish

All the see-sawed loss, I can't call it

All petite drawn straws and orange caution

Or outcast creeps re-involved for absolvement

It's gaudy, plus when a hell-bound offspring and yours share an office, all evolves salty

Watch, if fortune is a bitch with venom and laser tits

Maybe sin‘ll make for sugar-flavored flesh

Kings taste terrible at best and rest in peace raw

The rest are recipes

Caw!

Caw!

[Outro]

Watch your step, Watch your mouth

We all know the way that a punk goes out

Gotta watch your step, Watch your mouth

We all know the way that a punk goes out