Greasy Psalms Songtext

Presenting a dead coward as pigeons fall from the sky. Improvised surgery and the Old World rats are bound to die. Presenting un(man)kind, old ones grow up and die. Rearranged the neurons pigeons become rats that fly. Do you know permanent, when doves cry a dry sea? Cro-Magnon speak to me, "Think death is temporary." Sign on up, swallow pride, be the next escapee. Screw the world, this can be an educated killing spree. Gods will lie because they know that there's nothing else to do when pronounced dead to you. Rats that fly can survive so science transforms few who pay to misconstrue. Now's the time to grow up and die.