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We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

It Lives in My House!

from from DEAD to DAD​!​! by Fatkid

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lyrics

You said something I couldn't hear
As we sat there in the middle
And I closed my eyes in fear
As He make His presence known!

On His throne made of stone
Will you leave me on my own?
Work pull hard for brain
And you cannot resuscitate it
The times necessitate it
No need to overstate it
Locate my ephemera
So you cannot anticipate the taste
What a waste, cold embrace
Will you look me in my face?
Case by case we find
That all we have is appetite
What good is appetite?
When I'm only half alright
But I'm getting slightly better
When the light is fading from the day
But you keep getting in my way

Gone backwards
Reanimation
Some foul amalgamation
So come bear witness to the need
The angel wants to watch us bleed
What a dull infatuation
Upon the sewing of his seed
He reads you

And your knees will bend
In the end, just a trend
You have nothing to defend
You met my eyes
I guess to prove that you were concentrating
What good is concentrating?
When still I'm half debating
Rendering inflated sages caged
To wage the instruments of cause
Wrapped in gauze, snaps His jaws
Set to thunderous applause
Cut in half, I try to laugh
But nothing vocalizes
There are no more surprises
I hope he realizes
I've sized you up and now
There's nothing left to save you from my grasp
Oh god!!!!!

Fuck you!

credits

from from DEAD to DAD​!​!, released July 17, 2015

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about

Fatkid Chicago, Illinois

Four glorp gurus playing drippy tunnel music to honor the Almighty Splindledorph. Interests include tax evasion, moss, and second helpings of green beans.

All credit goes to Splindledorph. He wears our fingers like gloves and plays our instruments for us!

docdroid.net/tu3m
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