Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Red List , by - Hail Mary Mallon. Release date: 09.11.2014
Song language: English
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Red List , by - Hail Mary Mallon. The Red List |
| Bleak readout |
| Leave me out |
| Speak freely then be out, be out, be out |
| Be out, be out, be out |
| Be out, be out, be out |
| We been at odds with our sins |
| We seen 'em crawl from the deep |
| We went too far, then we came back |
| And now we’re falling asleep |
| It’s been a shadowy war |
| It’s been a horrible year |
| It’s been the corner of adored |
| And feared in fourth gear |
| Part bear part… |
| …barely there in rare heirlooms |
| Eyes like the size of an urn in a smurf’s spare room |
| First dig it’s weapons and low fives |
| And the rest get to sweat and peck at their own eyes |
| Pass out… |
| …Hash browns over home fries |
| All spinning bowties and hideous bone piles |
| Close to the cloak and joke with a broke style |
| No smile hotel robe in the bulk aisle |
| Hail Mary on a hell-bound round-trip |
| Clack horns with various rebel outfits |
| Marginal charisma lived over brownies |
| Lived over Jewson’s with the reubens and the house thieves |
| We been a mouthful of beer |
| We been a down on our luck |
| We been an out on our ear |
| In theory louder than fuck |
| It’s been a hole in the head |
| It’s been a series of gaffes |
| It’s been a missionary meddling |
| In mysterious craft |
| And three the hard way |
| March into harm’s way, so what? |
| Hem and haw getting all «our day will come» |
| With barmaids that cuss and come from the rough side |
| Where they shrug at the fuzz and bust like a cup size |
| Just die |
| Punks run from the unkind bloodline |
| Sock full of drugs on the one nine, dumb high |
| The moonshine runners with their buckets full of mudslides |
| Ten erratic moods that commune around a plus sign |
| Vulnerable species, life on the red list |
| Poached in the city now he hides in the wetlands |
| Monologue on a cross doing headstands |
| From the coast where the goats grow up with a deadpan |
| My DJ is Whiz, when he plays he wins, he go |
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|---|---|
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| Jonathan | 2014 |
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