Yo, what do you want, beak or jaws, feathers or fur, sharp teeth or feet with claws,

whatever's preferred, they'll grant you all last request to steady your nerves, then podcast

the body parts get severed and serked. Bring your weak shit, where the wall finale, that ain't just

a mistake, that's an awful howler. Both of them are known to pull up at your shows.

Have the crowd witnessing a murder like they rolled in with a gang of crows. Fuck their censorship. Let them see the whole thing. They stay dressed to kill. Never sheep's clothing. Dark enough to turn the sun to the moon. You'll see nothing. All your hears are huffer puff and a... a Expect killings red spilling and flesh ripping

Impressive in it

The death bringing his head spinning

Just kidding every word in his songs

About two grown men dressed up as a bird and a dog

Welcome

Once again to the wolf for now

You're not going to believe this

Literally as I start the podcast

The Swan has walked in with four white-iced finger buns for her husband, the owl. Oh, wow. What an incredible woman. Thank you. White-ice finger buns for breakfast. I know. Like, guys, just to shout out, we are recording this at 5 to 9 on a Monday morning. Like, I love you to death, Ron. Well, it turns out the Swan loves me to death as well. She's trying to fucking bring it on quicker. I know. You're like a Christmas turkey. He's asked me if I want to have them now or deep fry him first. Are you going to have them for breakfast? No, I'm fucking not having for it. I've had a breakfast.

Thank you.

What did you have, boy?

I've never know what you eat.

What?

What do you have for breakfast?

I've never know what you eat for breakfast most. No, don't do this because people start accusing you of not, of us not being friends again. Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. I don't know.

Just wondering if you should actually know each other if you're not sure what each other has for breakfast.

I'm suspicious.

...