Vultures don’t discriminate Flesh is flesh
The drought began and everything’s died
What’s dead is dead.
Lifeless, we were just left here I know the taste of death You’ll be throwing flowers Until there’s nothing left
The natural smell of sweat You left with the rain Midday in the desert While we were rotting out
I got too close and my waxwings Started to melt
You’ll be throwing flowers
I won’t hurt anything but myself.