Skin the chicken, prepare the mourning feast.
Finger licking, we gotta bleed the meat.
Roping cattle, we're gonna drink tonight.
Plasma curdles, the time to paralyze.
Pills are poppin'. We won the long fight.
Sound the siren. Your mother's calling out.
Hit the switches. Take care and all fall out.
Peeking over. We know it's dry and cold.
Praying's over. The chicken's getting cold.
Know the time to overload,
Or the time to bring under.
Would you like some tea?

Lyrics submitted by Wills

Octoberfleshed song meanings
Add your thoughts

No Comments

sort form View by:
  • No Comments

Add your thoughts

Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.

Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!

Back to top