D * Am
bm | F#m (aina takas duuriin)
down at the moor
theres a tree with a floor
an a sandfilled hole
where you hid the score
may the bloody house
exalt thee grooming welch
and rooses that the boor
weld poor Roger moore
-
dont buy wet cigarettes
from sweaty clerk geek suffraget
dont eat those poppyflowers
they make you like themselves
Keep the lid shut of
jar that the ashes make their home
read the cards aloud while the
fucking clown notes the scores
-
I am a cram
@porrectus Feb 2022
Those lyrics paint a picture. I like the evisceral feel to the lyrics. Great rhythm nice work.