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about

This is a song about Spirit halloween stores and feeling old even though you're still pretty young.

lyrics

Is it just me or is my hair getting thin
are my hands weighted under pounds of poignant sin?
Is it just me or am I out past a valley full
of high school stories and halloween masks?
Cradled like a baby on a bed of nails
every morning, every evening, every night
squeal with a burst of delight

Something putrid in the future
for every beast we ever know
and in turn the beast of burden
keeps your different sections in tune
This is not me, this is not you
Our casing crawls, or organs stew
This is not me, this is not you

Wear your lack of interest as a curse
transport your inhibition in a hearse
any cast that counts could swear
they've seen you come back from worse
Cradled like a baby on a bed of bibles
every second, every minute does some harm
Cowardice incarnate after eons of adjusting
stick those thumbs into my pudgy arms

Something putrid in the future
for every beast we ever know
and in turn the beast of burden
keeps your different sections in tune
This is not me, this is not you
Our casing crawls, or organs stew
This is not me, this is not you

This winter's gonna be a killer
This winter's gonna be a killer, I can taste it

You can jump into the sea
It won't save you
You can climb into a cloud
you won't be delivered
That dread will only stand to linger
This winter's gonna be a killer

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Sam Rockwell Machete Champion Wintersville, Ohio

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