On The Might Of Princes - You Whistle, I'll Shoot lyrics

Bring out your dead! Listen up appetite, Youre such a stickler for eating. The waning and the digesting, Terrible reasons, And allergic reactions. Ive got daggers for you, Im a sales pitch, An avalanche. An ice cap melting, We never opened up our mouths. Dont let it slide down my throat, Its so s**y when you shove it. Held my hands hostage to a captive audience. A sick day - a recount - a time bomb - a dead kid. Youve got this eviction to stomach, Hope your couch can hold the two of me.