Yo, yo, what 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 podcaster body parts get severed and served.
Bring your weak shit.
Wear the wolf and now la.
That ain't just a mistake, that's an awful howler.
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, all you hear's a half a puff and a. Expect killings.
Red spilling and flesh ripping.
Impressive, innit?
The death bringing his head spinning.
Just kidding.
Every word in this song's about two grown men dressed up as a bird and a dog.
Okay, let's do it.