Pigs wings

Yeah yeah.. here we are again.. Naive on the boards.. etcetera.. Shit, ohh shit.. [1st verse] The rinse out begins, the pig found some wings In a box of dead gods with tin crowns and rings So he shot his lead socks, ripped out his limbs Now he's swinging in the mists and twigs howling whims In this mound of skin, a druids at work Flogging my mind with bottles of wine to ruin my chirps If a, hog in the sky's worth two in the dirt Then the, songs that I write are worth losing a bird for The beautiful turf war, lashings of blood stew Ending in an alley with a passionate "fuck you" Reality floods through, bursting the boiler The world's worst surfer immersed in the moisture The world is my oyster, salty and snot textured A hot breakfast, poultry in gods dentures For lost emperors, naw at the gibblets Ripped from the jaws of the fortunate piglets [course] It's like when I think I might spend my life in this place Feels like the first time I had a knife in my face Like a thief in the night, try to escape From the scene of the crime and the cycle of waste Now when I think of all the swag rhymers that spit Feels like somebody just light a fire in my ribs Live from the bits, lighting my spliff Scatty Jam Baxter, time for the rinse [2nd verse] It's like six billion individually wrapped idiots Chilling in big buckets then smothered in some stickiness If money's worth anything, they would be worth nothing If nothing was something it would just look like their gums running The pricks.. but fuck it its criss The mother of [?] shimmers above covered in fish Rubbing her tits, tripping a muggle of troublesome kids Stuck in the bits, pick it up and unbutton your lips and just... Scream.. scream to the high heavens I am, and my life is my weapon And im'a swing it like a sack of sharp shanks Moving like a one man avalanche, mass There's a rat in our ranks, die hard munters Drunkards, double glazed eyes dart upwards As my heart ruptures and time starts crumbling Stumbling in life's dark mineshaft mumbling [course] It's like when I think I might spend my life in this place Feels like the first time I had a knife in my face Like a thief in the night, try to escape From the scene of the crime and the cycle of waste Now when I think of all the swag rhymers that spit Feels like somebody just light a fire in my ribs Live from the bits, lighting my spliff Scatty Jam Baxter, time for the rinse [3rd verse] Now I'm all that I was born to be and more Since I cheifed up the sorcerer that haunted me before Creeped up the tree trunk, bought a key of draw Now I'm watching as they wonder what their sores are weeping for And I can sort of see the shore though these blood fled blinkers Swimming in the rubble with the undead drifters Rum swilling, scum spitting, rough neck sickness Stick it like a smudge to the smut drenched fisters See I was always that breh, sat there, mashed up Tranqued dark kids on the rinse till the taps clog That slug, picking at some mystical hand guts Turns out they were made of fictional spack dust Damn, there fat fucks are chilling in my fridge again Rinsing all my chicken fillets dribbling and spitting phlegm Until the bitter end im'a slap them about Dragging them out, cramp some champion fraff in their mouths [course] It's like when I think I might spend my life in this place Feels like the first time I had a knife in my face Like a thief in the night, try to escape From the scene of the crime and the cycle of waste Now when I think of all the swag rhymers that spit Feels like somebody just light a fire in my ribs Live from the bits, lighting my spliff Scatty Jam Baxter, time for the rinse