Octoberfleshed Songtext

Skin the chicken, prepare the mourning feast.
Finger licking, we gotta bleed the meat.
Roping cattle, we're gonna drink tonight.
Plasma curdles, the time to paralyze.
Pills are poppin'. We won the long fight.
Sound the siren. Your mother's calling out.
Hit the switches. Take care and all fall out.
Peeking over. We know it's dry and cold.
Praying's over. The chicken's getting cold.
Know the time to overload,