Le Butcherettes
all you see in me is death
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A form of slick moving
Is owned by your thick neck
Mustang eyes and whiskers
Feathered hat, feathered hat
Motives and great thinkers
You feel inside of your hand
Salinger and Fitzgerald
Must have been love in disguise
And you look me in the eyes and say
You
are
not
degraded
You look me in the eyes and say
You
are
not
degraded
All you see in me is death
All you see in me is death
All you see in me is death
All you see in me is death
All you see in me is death
All you see in me is death
All you see in me is death
All you see in me is death