You can't take the “eat” out of death
That spelling is fixed
Sure as day on the skeleton sets
Both are forever at your neck
It’s an eat on us
Then will they so simply slip you bait
To the improved mutes and slave stakes
In a king’s bet, left only waged
Your once infant neck
Half hugging the workblade’s one-way embrace
Release rather
Your head let off, into that last capture
Then replanted in a bed of upper-class laughter
Wherein it is never picked nor tended to
Only left to a decorative death uneven
Under the spur slash slay of all seasons
And you . . .
You are singular
Yet in you still, all day has resulted
You are singular
It’s perhaps, pride of all pulses
You get no god to got your back against the maggots sluice
You got no one ape you owe all that bone structure too
Yet whether molded or 'volved
Your meaning of life long
Divided by day is to die solved

This means
This means terrible things to those who cherish the bed
Who think in flame or safe for their beliefs
The led that no river ever ends
That the sun and moon are simply mis-coming
That the dark and light cross honest’s
“For to give you no pain”

Big sleep will certainly cure you of this gift
In its body-ridden brutal business
To what’s motherlessness
Or to be been bent born at all
A belly set flame top the genetic kindle of surname
Born in burn and douse adjoining
Handed over from egg, into evening day and disappointment
Locking arms across the end indefinite
Like opening a jar full of weather
This will only work once

Once . . .

When single lives mattered more like dandelion’s reproduce
Not the thing of named and shames it has reduced
To with phantom mortgage pulsing on through
Where their heart would otherwise beach them
Kidded perhaps, led where deeds had promised to feed them
Until the ticker takes that tiny breath called stroke
In the mayhem math and method it has held of all your yolk
And when it does, you will be lucky, helped
Like you are when thought is clear about yourself
No recollection of the fears that stain your sleeping
Your pinks free of any sinking feeling
All done and don’t have to’d
You will be lucky to have your heart attack you
You don’t and never did
See bursting sun nor tit
Where winter welds your windows shut
No you see lives a-lived
All one wants is to be missed
To throw no flag
But zeal American
Mad bag of punches, poisons, and poetry
Don't regret
To rep your car wreck
To throw it threat
Up at the teething egg within a death

Lyrics submitted by onedozen, edited by Mellow_Harsher

Death Major song meanings
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