The Church - Lunar | Текст песни

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• The Church
• Lunar

All that it was was a fine-toothed comb
Only in on the night
All that it was was just one pound of flesh
Hound you until you get it right

All that it was was a cannibal buzz
Eating me up day on day
All that it needs was an old pile of seeds

An old, sour Beaujolais

All that it wore was a little brittle slip
Drooping right over my head
All that it says is there's nothing left to bless
All that it said is it's dead



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