| Black Butter, Past |
|---|
| I remember nights alone |
| When streetlights' glow would fill the room |
| Figures beat a native drum |
| And played a song foretelling to |
| Sing a song, try not to utter |
| Words at night that say |
| Black butter, ooh |
| Look around the room you’re in |
| And pick out something you really need |
| Take it in your hands and touch it |
| If you strike it, will it bleed? |
| And if it dies, you’ll hear the cries |
| And know the meaning of |
| Black butter, ooh |
