My Sister is a Butcher
And she is pretty calm
Lives like a macabre Jim Henson
Wants to die like John Lennon
Has an eye for foreign bodies, calories sticking to your ribs
She's not working on her foresight cause her hindsight is a black light and the stains a Jackson Pollock of regret.
And her fortress is a mattress, and her mattress is a doorstep, and her doorstep is a key half cut
And while she claims she's getting higher, I know fine well that she's a lying optimistic with a half drained cup
My Sister is a Butcher
And she is barely there
Ghosting round a near nirvana
A swollen back an thinning hair
The fowl is squackin in the backyard, squeals with the ever bleeding dawn
She breaks the neck and bastes the breast, tits on the gooseneck like a wine that's blessed
Repetitive and desperate as a psalm
And her fortress is a mattress, and her mattress is a doorstep, and her doorstep is a key half cut
And while she claims she's getting higher, I know fine well that she's a lying optimistic with a half drained cup
I've heard the same 6 anecdotes so many times that it's a joke, a wilhelm cackle from a novel rut
No we're not blind she's killing time and time has murder on the mind
She slurs her words, we bat an eye, she fills back up
My Sister is a Butcher
And she is pretty calm
A macabre Jim Henson
Wants to die like John Lennon
A classic alibi for mad men, awakes guiltless with no regret
She's never upset when she stumbles, never prouder when she mumbles, cause the high she needs to heal has made its bed
And her fortress is a mattress, and her mattress is a doorstep, and her doorstep is a key half cut
And while she claims she's getting higher, I know fine well that she's a lying optimistic with a half drained cup
I've heard the same 6 anecdotes so many times that it's a joke, a wilhelm cackle from a novel rut
No we're not blind she's killing time and time has murder on the mind
She slurs her words, we bat an eye, she fills back up
