Lyrics Foulbrood - Two Inch Astronaut

Foulbrood

saw them taking down the license
with firecracker casings all
strewn about the street behind it
just tire streaks when they made the call
i got a bad idea i’m trying to ignore
but with every comb that comes along there’s a sting for every pore
foulbrood drank 'em up, bad mood, maybe vertigo is the fear that you’re going
to jump and it might not be so bad
lost the second he stepped outside
to commit suicide by cop
cat calling the coroner to ask him
if he would pick him up