Collapse
Baroness / John Dyer Baizley
We are all soured milk
When we look in the mirror, we collapse
When our time has come
When our finger's on the trigger, we collapse
Arms are flailing
Swirling like the poison in the sink
Like the southern belle
Playing songs of horror
Like teeth amongst the grass
Like the bullet shell
Whistle and then I'll hum
Watch the good folks run
We are all rotten fruit
When the pipeline starts to flowing, we collapse
When our time has come
When the courtyard needs a lynching, we collapse
Arms are flailing
The devils' in the eye of every man
Water and the well
A Baptist and a baby
Were rolling in the weeds
Keep her spirit well
The tarpit daughter's father
Will lay her out to dry