Get in the oven, young cousin,
if your pupils dilate wide.
Bearing your rufie and your butter-knife member
wearing the scalps and hides.
Don't put your hand on her.
Don't read your poetry
because it's worthless and didactic to me.

[..]

So you'd better get her home by 11:30.
Yeah you'd better get her home by 11:30.

I'll take a look at your parents
and scour your DNA for your disease.
You can beg me or bite down.
Your hollow words mean nothing to me.
Don't plan your alibi.
Don't sing your poetry
because you've found the lion deep inside of me.
You are America
raised to bow and pray
before the ivory palace where you lay.

So you'd better get her home by 11:30.
Yeah you'd better get her home by 11:30.

So many fish.
So many fish.
I'm going to eat you raw.
So many fish.
So many fish.
I'm going to eat you raw.


Lyrics submitted by cjlindman, edited by kelleybean

Boyd (feat. Sherri DuPree-Bemis) song meanings
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