lyrics
I’ve had an accident grow me some blood,
I wouldn’t ask you to if I didn’t know you could,
Spit the splinters and now they grow rife,
Don’t end up being a passenger in your own life,
In a stranger’s sense don’t say a thing,
We can keep bringing you nothing and making you sing,
Into empty rooms night after night,
Don’t end up being a passenger in your own life
Stick ‘em up and lick us up a taster,
Come on down and meet yourself a maker,
‘cause he misses you and we miss you too,
Bust the seals and have yourself a taster,
Come on down and meet yourself a maker,
Don’t you miss us too? You really ought to
Tell me the difference it’s devils you know,
Call them up if you want but I can bet they don’t show,
They’ve got better ways to spend their time,
Don’t come in spoken all choking and wasting all mine,
Old complaints about news you don’t know,
Live life in passive and I can bet you that it shows,
Where the splinters grow dead at the roots,
Trade in your life for a work/wedding/funeral suit – it’s so you!
Stick ‘em up and lick us up a taster,
Come on down and meet yourself a maker,
‘cause he misses you and we miss you too,
Bust the seals and have yourself a taster,
Come on down and meet yourself a maker,
Don’t you miss us too? You really ought to
And we know you do.
Round and round and round and round the queue will go,
And where it’s going to stop only hell will know,
Rank and single file and going nowhere fast,
When you finally reach the front you’re just sent right back
Where’s that soul?
credits
from
Fodder + Splinters,
released June 12, 2013
Music by Chid Seisay
Lyrics by Matt Franklin
license
all rights reserved
