Za's Stair - The Sausage Hill Screech Mob

These are the days of the blossom-fetch jum root
These are the days of the baobab palm
May you find yourself in fondue, sahib
May you stretch out your claws and may they be long

Opprobrium makes all the widows do back-flips
Opprobrium makes all the flowers lose charm
May your skiff be swift in choppy waters
May your gift be missed when you're not around

It takes voodoo to make a severed head sing, yo
It takes voodoo to make a hippo gain charm
May your sacred spells outlast the weather
May your severed hells be a cakewalk for some

The Sausage Hill Screech Mob is coming next Thursday
They go low on the light and hard on the flame
The Sausage Hill Screech Mob is burning your greenhouse
Your bunkhouse, your office, your building, your name

Written by:
Frank DiPietro

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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