Yeah, 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 served.

Bring your weak shit where the wall for now, uh, that ain't just a mistake, that's an awful howl,

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 nothing all your hears are

half a puff and of expect killings red spilling and flesh ripping impressive in it

the death bringing his head spinning just kidding every word in this songs about two grown men dressed up as a bird and a dog.

Oh hello friends and supporters and

just members various assorted members of the animal pack I like to think the wolf and myself

is sort of sat on a sort of a stump in the middle of the

animals have all gathered around to hear our address.

You're sat on a tone store, cross-legged, cheeky in your way.

Everressant.

Yeah, and then I say wolf you know that's not a word

I let out a big how

and I scamper through a lake and fish bound around me. I've been watching that film. Have you seen the film Lucca?

...