I don’t mean
to hate,
on jack fake….
Let’s say,
there was an un-preservable flesh
textured egg…
you had to protect.
would you drop your neck on the chopping block
of no clear god, and lop your avant rap rock real talk
bill wrought feel soft axe head off….
You bury a skull in soil,
and hope it will a Lilly make.
I hate to break it to you dull,
but it ain’t gonna take…
This ain’t thine death bag
with it’s black bang bill bent mash
and a laugh half mast in wind
can’t cast shine in an
on applause sign…
In the oven of the year you…
End & egg
A wonderful X-ray of…
You at fifty, in the study, with the nightstick,by the end lamp, in your one bed, and your no rent, by your onesome, in your own right, in the lowlight, with your one wing,
and your noising…
The very mouths that feed you
just might be the hell that eats you…
and I know a pawn
who can stretch a song his whole life long,
but when he’s gone….he is gone….
Don’t play chords with Satan, he’ll stab you…

Lyrics submitted by Malhavic

End & Egg song meanings
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