Bats Fly in the Rain

Lyrics

[Intro: Skeleton Lode] Hatchet in his head We'll roll him up in a carpet All's Well That Ends Well Carry him up the staircase Wu-Tang, Black Knights Holocaust, Skeleton Lode, Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang West Coast The flyest shit ever, yo, yo Smash a roach in a pipe and smoke it [Verse 1: Skeleton Lode] A bloodstained diary, snakes in the bathtub Run through the meadow laughing with revolvers Mean man Skeleton Lode, insane Will scream in pain, sometimes it does rain Cannonball trees, Uzis and flamingos Dead men mumble, grab me when I stumble Swig on whisky, actress tried to kiss me Blew it from across the room but it missed me Now at the Bombay chat house with pistols Might tip my hat, whistling in the graveyard Shells on the street, Holocaust is cold Now known as Skeleton Lode, devils fold Blue socks, fancy red shoe When it rains, the flowers drip candy Couldn't understand me, pistol on the dresser Never was lesser, lay you on the stretcher Slit his wrist with the piece of a broken record Music from the Sun, lonely hitchhiker In the darkest corners of the city In the darkest corner [Chorus: Skeleton Lode] The planet gets priced for what it gives us A beggar taxed for a corner to die in The crooked priest has his fee, who doesn't live trust And we bargain for the graves that we lie in While at the Devil's booth all things are sold Each ounce of junk costs its ounce in gold Knowledge to the poorest comer free and lavish This summer makes myself quit shucking and jiving [Verse 2: Skeleton Lode] The light in the distance, spider crawling on marbles Lay in an empty pool with a pistol Wu-Tang official whistle like a missile White House with black walls, come correct Music in Iraq, kiss you in the darkness Whisper to the daylight, circus at the gravesite Fe-Fo-Fum, where is Francesca? A shovel fell over, sitting, smoking yeska Bloody fiesta, man without a name though One zombie went out over to touch the rainbow Gun in my coat, the bar just closed A white owl biting a rose, sat froze Winding back roads, swerve in a garbage truck Of all things I've lost, I miss my mind the most Big West Coast, heavy smoke A well dressed skeleton slowly cuts your throat MCs find themselves falling down Lost in the sound, drink until you drown The funny old man and his wife stay on the mountain We guzzle wine, La-La-La-La [Chorus: Skeleton Lode] The planet gets priced for what it gives us A beggar taxed for a corner to die in The crooked priest has his fee, who doesn't live trust And we bargain for the graves that we lie in While at the Devil's booth all things are sold Each ounce of junk costs its ounce in gold Knowledge to the poorest comer free and lavish this summer makes Myself quit shucking and jiving [Verse 3: Skeleton Lode] A hand in the darkness, Bats Fly in the Rain We play where the dead man hang, a spiked brain Coffee on the table, skeletons in the walls Wander down the cobwebbed halls until you fall Deep in a coffin, look at the wooden crates My pistol changes shapes, bullet holes in your drapes Soap in the dirt, plates in the lake The clown with the tearaway face is selling cake Roaches in a shoebox, mice in the guitar Just through the woods and over, it isn't far Drink up the bar, pour bullets into a shot glass Stomp through the attic, blood smeared on the window A Purple Rose from Cairo A match fell down the tunnel in slow motion Walk at the bottom of the ocean with a notion A man selling pictures, lonely on the road Mean man Skeleton Lode, from the cold When he walks through the crowd, their heads explode Stand in the doorway, came from California Headdress short a few feathers, Face the Music [Chorus: Skeleton Lode] The planet gets priced for what it gives us A beggar taxed for a corner to die in The crooked priest has his fee, who doesn't live trust And we bargain for the graves that we lie in While at the Devil's booth all things are sold Each ounce of junk costs its ounce in gold Knowledge to the poorest comer free and lavish this summer makes Myself quit shucking and jiving The planet gets priced for what it gives us A beggar taxed for a corner to die in The crooked priest has his fee, who doesn't live trust And we bargain for the graves that we lie in While at the Devil's booth all things are sold Each ounce of junk costs its ounce in gold Knowledge to the poorest comer free and lavish this summer makes Myself quit shucking and jiving