John Congleton & The Nighty Nite Canaries In The Coal Mine
There's an upside to your feeding tube
We've arranged a humble birthday party for you
A hasteful kitten sometimes spoil their food
They tip the dish and they leave hungry tummies
We will always be eating our own
We will always wonder which side you're on
In this universe each one of us is alone
We will always be eating, always be eating our own
There's an awkward form you now assume
Some new abstraction from your mother's fresh womb
To cry in bathrooms, worship garbage truth
That [which] won't kill you will surely scare the f..ck out of you
Your plump fingers and fatty thumbs
Will curl and circle, devour the young
Canaries in the coal mines come alone
No body comes back and no body comes home
We will always be eating our own
We will always wonder which side you're on
In this universe each one of us is alone
Nobody comes back and nobody comes home
We will always be eating our own
We will always be bricking prisons
In this universe each one of us is alone
Nobody comes back, nobody comes home
We picture seven swinging branches
With seven swinging bodies
Seven singing trumpets and seven seals to come
We shall overcome
We picture seven swinging branches
With seven swinging bodies
Seven singing trumpets and seven seals to come
We shall overcome
We picture seven swinging branches
With seven swinging bodies
Seven singing trumpets and seven seals to come
We shall overcome