Sirens (Demo 3)

[Chorus]

Drink from the leche of sirens

Summon the sailors in town

Strangle the fear of deciding

Which ones deserving to drown

[Post-Chorus]

(Drown, drown)

(Drown, drown)

[Verse 1]

Engraved in our memory, the harm that was done

Our mothers, the witches they banished and burned

All of our sisters were killed and abused

By sword-swinging men who would always accuse

[Pre-Chorus]

The worst of a woman who fights for our right

To be where we belong at the front of the line

Tired of silence and being polite

Your legs turn to shimmering scales in the night

[Chorus]

Drink from the leche of sirens

Summon the sailors in town

Strangle the fear of deciding

Which ones deserving to drown

Don't feel bad when these fuckers all drown

[Post-Chorus]

(Drown, drown)

(Let them drown, let)

[Verse 2]

Tenderness worn on the skin like a dress

Nurture these men, pull them out of their mess

They steal the resources, destroy all the land

Belittle the power of the feminine hand

[Pre-Chorus]

The milk from the rivers of every moon

Cradle you tight like you're back in the womb

Bury their souls in a cove by the light

Celestial dip all that ego and pride

[Chorus]

Drink from the leche of sirens

Summon the sailors in town

Strangle the fear of deciding

Which ones deserving to drown

Don't feel bad when these fuckers all drown

[Post-Chorus]

(Drown, ooh)

(Drown, ooh)

(Drown, ooh)

(Drown)

[Bridge]

Nothing wrong with a little havoc

It's fun when shit hits the fan

So guillotine their heads by shouting

Cut 'em off, the water's red

Nothing wrong with a little havoc

It's fun when shit hits the fan

So guillotine their heads by shouting

Cut 'em off, the water's red

Nothing wrong with a little havoc

It's fun when shit hits the fan

So guillotine their heads by shouting

Cut 'em off, the water's red

Nothing wrong with a little havoc

It's fun when shit hits the fan

So guillotine their heads by shouting

Cut 'em off, the water's red

Nothing wrong with a little havoc

It's fun when shit hits the fan

So guillotine their heads by shouting

Cut 'em off, the water's red

[Chorus]

Drink from the leche of sirens

Summon the sailors in town

Strangle the fear of deciding

Which ones deserving to drown