Did sweet daddy die
|
Square on your birthday?
|
Some macabrish attempts
|
To see you'd rue the day
|
|
Or appear in the end
|
And be happy he made it back
|
To be just in time
|
To cut the cake and watch
|
You boil alive
|
In your own butterscotch
|
|
His ghost might appear
|
As a venemous backlash
|
His ghost might appear
|
As a motive and fear
|
|
And everyone tells you
|
"There's nobody down there"
|
In between the chinging glasses where
|
They eat you up, slow down
|
To awkward again
|
|
Did sweet daddy die
|
Square on your birthday?
|
Some macabrish attempts
|
To see you'd rue the day
|
Here again
|
|
So here comes the bride
|
And out stretch the hands
|
To one to chop and cut clean
|
And here come the chefs
|
Ante up the bets
|
See how long it'll be
|
|
Out come the knives
|
Down swings the axe
|
To one to sharp it all in
|
|
So here comes the bride
|
Here comes the bride
|
Here comes the bride
|
|
So here comes the bride
|
And out stretch the hands
|
To one to chop and cut clean
|
And here come the chefs
|
Ante up the bets
|
See how long it'll be
|
|
Out come the knives
|
Down swings the axe
|
To one to sharp it all in
|
|
So here comes the bride
|
Here comes the bride
|
Here comes the bride
|
|
-----------------
|
Out Come The Knives
|
| The Paper Chase |
