Coughing up and spitting it all out.
Sit next to us.
Piling up plates of filth, I'll take a taste
Yeah, we see how pretty you are with all your feathers and tar.
So shiny, I close my eyes. Who wouldn't want to win this prize?
But you lie. This sickness.
It's raining. Tie her hands to the stake.
It's burning. Warm your hands and wait.