Octoberfleshed Lyrics

Skin the chicken, prepare the morning feast.
Finger-lickin', we gotta bleed the meat.
Roping cattle. We're gonna drink tonight.
Plasma curdles. It's time to paralyze.
Pills are poppin',
We win 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 old.

Would you like some tea?
... Know the time to overload,
Or the time to bring under.