Letras
Holy where he been at? lard up in the tarmac
Take cheese he trynna snap print it for the calves
It is i king jumping the crescent and back
It is i spots simple no color to match
It is i sharp beef getting harvested bad
How the marble on that? how the cartilage tagged for em'?
How he find him self back forward "nowhere to somewhere"
How them lads they yap for it still "did you gather all that"
So where he at? foot track in the meadows he's gone searching
Tree bark scratcher the trail of him fall for it
Chip off the wood the stir of the wind blow it
And surface the outpost of them lost servants is there
It shows up the sun and the trees blur it
Wood stained curtains they all bit torn worried
He passes it not certain still manage to crack the door in
That dust speckle it glitter in air
This old tavern once filling with
Its all remnants telling those tales for em'
He step back them visions they start forming
The presence that heat on the stench burning
Break neck turning peripheral jump horror!
That gaze fall on him weighs many a pound
Skin shake looking him dead in the frown
Tell him look at me now
He chart seas where the compass is passing
Sight seas where them sightings is past
He's been plotting on plots of the land
See he sit back scribble the arm in sand mark it in
You S hould O f S at that ass
Why you go venturing that?
Why you looking for laughs?
Why you go hoping to catch on it?
Them shores they don't want it kid
Now look how that cast its so awful its
It's looking like arms that's been lacking this
That factor the x mark of it
The same they might of packed him in