Witheren - Unsolicited Response Lyrics

Sir wordsmith, may this earworm
Find the depth of your muse
And f*ck with the fusebox
So you quit the toxic shit

Thick sick knight in shining armour
Enamoured with his big broadsword
Light's a bit dim in the forest
In the thickest of the night it's hard
To pick out the pricks from the prickles

I guess i'm T-total, but yours'
An exceptional case
Inscrutable disgrace
Requiring a bunch of slugs...
Though two should do

One bourbon, one lead
Both for the head
Plugged in a smug face
Face down in the grass
Don't bullshit a dung-fuel furnace!

Don't bullshit
A dung-fuel furnace
And don't send
A knight to a firefight