Jars DeVourdalak

[Intro]:
Look dusty and worn, yo, you can see all these live, on stage, he moved to New York and paid his fuckin' high rent, yo, yo

[Verse]:
You could live normal if death's done right
Journal entry one write
Hands got caught red one night
Walkin' out the woods from a fresh dumpsite
My corduroys got wet cum white (Eww)
Stains from spread blood types
I write dark shit, put fear in a sense
Stabbed 'til my fist disappears in your chest
The murder sounds swell
Dropped my formula in the town well
The machine ghost, flow out shelled
Mouth watеr, from how the louse smell
Third floor stink likе sour wells
Might spit the water, then bathe poor kids in
The faceform switches in the dawn of the day born different
Givin' life light by eight sworn witches
Faith more thin
Crate mortician, eight horn brimlit
Scalpin' dead pale flesh open up desire
Male witch trial, I'm posted up in fire
Heads on sticks it shows from postin' up in flyer
Ceremonial bread soakin' up in cider

[Outro]:
This pen is tragic, I can feel it, all around us now