Текст (слова) песни: Paper Chase, The - Out Come The Knives
Did sweet daddy die square on your birthday In some macabish attempt to see you rue the day Or appear in the end and be happy he made it back, To be just in time to cut the cake And watch you boil alive in your own butterscotch His ghost might appear as a venomous backlash His ghost might appear as a motive in fear And everyone tells you there’s nobody down there In between the chinging glasses Where they eat up slow down too awkward again
Did sweet daddy die square on your birthday In some macabish attempt to see you rue the day again So here comes the pride And out stretched the hand that we chop and cut clean, And here come the chefs So ante up the bets to see how long it will be, So out come the knives And down swings the axe the one you sharpened with me So here comes the pride Here comes the pride Here comes the pride
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