Young Fathers
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Soon Come Soon

Young Fathers


Hold down beholder
Hold down beholder
Hold down beholder
The handle's broken
Come get your beating
Did I not feed you?
You're my boy and your god is evil
Point blank
Gasp for air when there's two in here
Silent day to torture
Join me, comrade
Dinner with dogs and kissing sad cats
Scraps and all for the cunning rats
Drawing blood and have a drink
Take a shot and then shoot, shooter
Take a shot and then shoot, shooter
Take a shot and then shoot

Oh, soon come soon
Oh, soon come soon
Come and get it
Oh, soon come soon
Oh, soon come soon
Come and get it, come and get it

Turn me up, turn me up
Say, say, say
Batter up, batter up
Hey, hey, hey
Having enough is not enough to say
Choice is not a luxury
On this occasion definitely
(Honestly, ​it is)
Green grasses and green grasses in green patches
Sandcastles, full throttle, something subtle
Paper rubbles inside the girdle mumbling curses
System of her dancing, nothing worth liking
Lower than a bastard, classing from the Baster
Burying the hatchet
How do you think she likes​ it?
She lay the chigger in the casket
How do you think she likes it?
Throwing caution to the wind
Letting love pass you by
Send a note to future self
Stay awake and alert
Hear the click clang at the belts
The rustling in the leaves, my dear

(At the instant of detonation
the temperature the nuclear fireball
is twenty million degrees –
as hot as the surface of the sun.)

Oh, soon come soon
Oh, soon come soon
Oh, soon come soon
Oh, soon come soon
Oh, soon come soon
Oh, soon come soon
Oh, soon come soon
Oh, soon come soon

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