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Blackwater Crows
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A Murder Most Foul
A song about crows...
Murder.
Murder.
Murder in the first
Oh what perfect timing
Face down in the dirt
Here comes the light
It's oh so blinding.
Slip the point
Into the break
The science of dissection
Making a blood bath
For the crow to play.
Aiming for the dive
On a count to six
Smother the acid
on the spine
Harbinger
of the sticks.
time, time.
The darkest part
About myself
Is my own reflection
Forward cant be stopped
In a backward motion.
Facing all my demons
Spreading my plague
In the winds
I'm falling faster
On broken wings.
Aiming for the dive
On a count to six
Smother the acid
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On the spine
Harbinger
Of the sticks.
The crow
Veils the
Violence
Inside of me.
Slip the point
Into the break
The science of dissection
Making a blood bath
For the crows to play.
Aiming for the dive
On a count to six
Smother the acid
On the spine
Harbinger
Of the sticks.
Unburden me
Release me
From my cage.
Tear into the flesh
Ripping out the bones
Killing all your sons and daughters
Slashing all your throats.
Release me
From my cage.
The crow inside me
Masks the violence
Can they see me
In my s©i(l)ence.
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