Live At The Apocalypse Cabaret Songtext
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Scarecrow, you ruined me
Now I've caught my hands in the death machine
They fed my children to the lions
they made me watch it on the television
Scarecrow, with your blackbird wives,
Now I've caught my hands in the death machine
They fed my children to the lions
they made me watch it on the television
Scarecrow, with your blackbird wives,
I was promised you'd come and save my life
They chased me down with the farmer's son
bashed our brains out with an oil drum
And the cross-eyed map of the afterlife is knitting tiny neckties
But scarecrow, I'm still alive
Who sewed me back together to watch the whole world writhe?
Watch me stumble on the cobblestones
Mothers, grab your children, here comes the town drunk
Scarecrow, they took my wife
They tied her to an oak in a field of rye
They flood the field with kerosene
The moths ate the flames as their faces beamed
The bald-eyed map of the afterlife is knitting tiny neckties
And the graveyard ship flies over us
The celebrity host walks the plank
The verse of the day is, "Baby heads planted in the ground don't make baby trees. And thank you, goodnight."
Scarecrow, did you hear about the priest
they found jerking off in the confession booth?
His collar spinning like a top
he looked so pathetic crying to the cops
Scarecrow, did you hear about the man who locked his daughter in the basement for 12 years?
They dragged her out of the house to the hungry audience
The cross-eyed map of the afterlife is knitting tiny neckties
The bald-eyed map of the afterlife is knitting tiny noose ties
The wild-eyed map of the afterlife is knitting tiny death lies
They chased me down with the farmer's son
bashed our brains out with an oil drum
And the cross-eyed map of the afterlife is knitting tiny neckties
But scarecrow, I'm still alive
Who sewed me back together to watch the whole world writhe?
Watch me stumble on the cobblestones
Mothers, grab your children, here comes the town drunk
Scarecrow, they took my wife
They tied her to an oak in a field of rye
They flood the field with kerosene
The moths ate the flames as their faces beamed
The bald-eyed map of the afterlife is knitting tiny neckties
And the graveyard ship flies over us
The celebrity host walks the plank
The verse of the day is, "Baby heads planted in the ground don't make baby trees. And thank you, goodnight."
Scarecrow, did you hear about the priest
they found jerking off in the confession booth?
His collar spinning like a top
he looked so pathetic crying to the cops
Scarecrow, did you hear about the man who locked his daughter in the basement for 12 years?
They dragged her out of the house to the hungry audience
The cross-eyed map of the afterlife is knitting tiny neckties
The bald-eyed map of the afterlife is knitting tiny noose ties
The wild-eyed map of the afterlife is knitting tiny death lies
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