Woolen Heirs

These Arms Are Snakes - Rock, Progressive Rock
Woolen Heirs
0 Plays
Duration: 4:16
Lyrics
He, he sinks in the ground On these streets of 11th and Howell May he run down blocks and city halls To be drank by city folks and shivering crows, to make this right All the way down to the Sound! You'll be a sound mite, and I'll be your roe And all of those blood types, become the sow He said he sold one leg To a mite on the corner of 11th and Howell So he could run down the throats Of any folks that he cared to choke In shivering clothes, to make this right You'll be a sound mite, and I'll be your roe And all of those blood types, become the sow Teeth jangling lie like lights supporting the whole thing They spit, drool slowly falls. Gelatin rain! (For the second embrace!) (Opening eyes erases all sound.)
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