Aesop Rock - Crows 2 lyrics
Ian Matthias Bavitz [Bazooka Tooth]
[Aesop Rock - Crows 2 lyrics]
Watch your step, Watch your mouth
We all know the way that a punk goes out
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
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 tit's
Maybe sin ‘ll make for sugar-flavored flesh
Kings taste terrible at best and
Rest in peace raw the rest are recipes
Caw! Caw!
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
We all know the way that a punk goes out
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
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 tit's
Maybe sin ‘ll make for sugar-flavored flesh
Kings taste terrible at best and
Rest in peace raw the rest are recipes
Caw! Caw!
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