kill the vultures - burnt offering كلمات الأغنية
i got a bag full of bones; not a single one honest
polished ’em, bleached ’em, blessed ‘em with ivory crosses
must be nauseous from drinkin’ silver mercury
dirty as a scalpel after drug store surgery
parasite leechin’ off a good thing going
sent my condolence to the widow while the barrel’s still smokin’
blood stream rank as the bathtub whiskey that was
kept in the flask of your favorite father
that sounds great now make me another offer
with your head hung, arms stretched high in the jesus posture
freezer locker burn, burn, for the needle doctor
people taught ya more shame than the evil offers
born under a bad sign begun
talkin’ under my breath, living under the gun
lookin’ over my back with metal under my tongue
tryin’ to outrun the hour hand until the clock reads none
chorus:
you burned my past; i’ll burn you last
under the sky an ice cold colorless eye
peers into our windows as we wonder the why
try your best to stay dry in a tumblin’ tide
these are troubling times, no wonder you hunger the high
bent as a question mark, hoover, dressed in dark
add lab rats and laugh tracks as soon as the confession starts
scared as h-ll? then climb off the carousel
didn’t want to let go and didn’t have no where to fell
ring them bells and save your savior
neighbors raped your sacred acres, replaced with skyscr-pers
fly paper on the ceiling catches holy tongues
ease off the opium son or there won’t be none
get it all up out the cracks between your vertebrae
before you sulkin’, turned away without a single word to say
so who cut the brake line, i’m gonna take
time just to find ’em while there’s still another curse to place
chorus
regret holds me tight its only right
spent another lonely night with jack daniels and his trophy wife
roll these dice, you only live twice
but you need lucky thirteen to shake away your poltergeist
here’s a sober sight for you to -n-lyze overnight
keep your mouth closed and your composure tight
don’t even let a single bead of sweat drop
or its back to the pet shop, probably where you’re best off
live from the boiler room, straight from the gut
with a glimmer in my eye and some salt in the cut
with a thorn in my side and a limp in my strut
i barely have to make ’em cry before they’re giving it up
chorus
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