Better on the Drums - The Vultures
The vultures
The vultures came
The vultures ate the flesh of a snake
Flesh of a snake in a sea of waste
In the everyday
The snake bones
The snake bones stayed
All that was left of a legacy
Of one who’s slithering fate was paved
By its own decay
And so where nothing but bones there lay
The feet of the masses passed a concrete grave
And no one noticed the sad remains
Of the yesterday
They never stop
They’re never full
It’s foul and most would say
It’s natural
It’s flesh to dust
A barren state
They never see until it’s
Far too late
The vultures
The vultures wait
They circle over their scurrying prey
Who still half alive are well on their way
To a baited taste
The cycle
It never breaks
It never fails in the thralls of haste
To go unnoticed and yet still reign
Day after day
They never stop
They’re never full
It’s foul and most would say
It’s natural
It’s flesh to dust
A barren state
They never see until it’s
Far too late
Written by:
Rafael Perez, Klee Galligan
Publisher:
Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
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