The Pit Within Pits

Naw. Dead that talk
They will take yourself, and blow in them duties
Drain them of your butterscotch in you, and your cool arm of its groovy trick
And run a filer through the keyholed eyed
Prison cells for one, they will see infant sons as unstrung marionettes of able
flesh and fathered deaths
Somewhere in life the death
There will be men whom have become googled in their self-preserve,
surviving by the slightest might and screwing up the lining of them,
so fragile in the suck of the sun
And so you walk, predicting all possible presence in every bits and back from
the bed to the bills, you see nothing but pit within pit within pit within pit
within pit within pit
An undeniable feeding on you
And more this
When home, your wall will to kill, then overkill
And so you walk. And so walk. And so you walk
When home, your wall will to kill, then overkill
Gone still. You’re gone still. You’re gone
Gone still, your gone still, you’re gone
When home, your wall will
Bills (x6)
I have found this bloody key that lets the lout out (x2)
They will take yourself and plowman teas, drain them of their butterscotch,
adieu
And so you walk
Predicting all possible
And so you walk
Two bits in bed
From the bed to the bills you see nothing (x2)
From the bed to the bills you see nothing but pit within pit, an undeniable
feeding on
From the bed to the bills you see nothing but pit within pit within pit within
pit within pit within pit
And so you walk
From the bed to the bills you see nothing but pit within pit within pit within
pit, an undeniable feeding on
You see that last
From the bed to the bills you see nothing but pit within pit within pit within
pit within pit within pit within pit within pit within pit