Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Spill Your Guts, artist - Creature Feature. Album song American Gothic, in the genre АльтернативаSpill Your Guts |
| We are frail |
| So frail and weak |
| Our bodies fail |
| We’re all just meat |
| So easily scarred |
| So easily beat |
| It doesn’t take much |
| For us to spring a leak |
| It doesn’t take much |
| To perish in your sleep |
| We are soft |
| Soft and smooth |
| Just beef and sauce |
| Perfect for stew |
| So easily squashed |
| So easily bruised |
| It doesn’t take much |
| To strip us to the bone |
| It doesn’t take much |
| Work to make us croak |
| We’re all marching in the same parade |
| Biding our time in this fleeting masquerade |
| We’re all headed steadfast to the grave |
| Why all the fuss |
| We’ll all be dust |
| And soon you’ll spill your guts |
| Will you burn out or will you fade away |
| Will you die young or wither in old age |
| We’re all dying to make it out unscathed |
| Why all the fuss |
| We’ll all be dust |
| And soon you’ll spill your guts |
| We are doomed |
| From the start |
| Shrivel like prunes |
| Damaged and scarred |
| So easily strewn |
| So easily marred |
| It doesn’t take much |
| To tear us apart |
| It doesn’t take much |
| Force to stop our hearts |
| We are flawed |
| Prone to leak |
| Crumbling facades |
| Fraught with disease |
| So easily clawed |
| So easily freed |
| It doesn’t take much |
| Stress to make us crack |
| It doesn’t take much |
| Strength to break our backs |
| We’re all marching in the same parade |
| Biding our time in this fleeting masquerade |
| We’re all headed steadfast to the grave |
| Why all the fuss |
| We’ll all be dust |
| And soon you’ll spill your guts |
| Will you burn out or will you fade away |
| Will you die young or wither in old age |
| We’re all dying to make it out unscathed |
| Why all the fuss |
| We’ll all be dust |
| And soon you’ll spill your guts |
| A knife in the back from a friend |
| Or a bump on the head |
| A ruptured appendix |
| Or maybe a virus instead |
| A clot in your veins |
| Or a poisonous snake in the grass |
| A chest full of buckshot |
| Or maybe a slip in the bath |
| We’re all marching in the same parade |
| Biding our time in this fleeting masquerade |
| We’re all headed steadfast to the grave |
| Why all the fuss |
| We’ll all be dust |
| And soon you’ll spill your guts |
| Will you burn out or will you fade away |
| Will you die young or wither in old age |
| We’re all dying to make it out unscathed |
| Why all the fuss |
| We’ll all be dust |
| And soon you’ll spill your guts |
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