My Sister is a Butcher
And she is pretty calm
Lives like a macabre Jim Henson
Wants to die like John Lennon
Has an eye for foreign bodies
Calories sticking to your ribs
She's not working on her foresight 'cause her hindsight is a black light
And the stains a Jackson Pollock of regret
And her fortress is a mattress and her mattress is a doorstep and her doorstep is a key half cut
And while she claims she's getting higher I know fine well that she's a lying optimistic with a half drained cup
My Sister is a Butcher
And she is barely there
Ghosting round a near nirvana
A swollen back and thinning hair
The foul is squawking in the backyard
Squeals with the ever bleeding dawn
She breaks the neck and bastes the breast, teats on the gooseneck like a wine that's blessed
Repetitive and desperate as a psalm
And her fortress is a mattress and her mattress is a doorstep and her doorstep is a key half cut
And while she claims she's getting higher I know fine well that she's a lying optimistic with a half drained cup
I've heard the same 6 anecdotes so many times that it's a joke
A a wilhelm cackle from a novel rut
No we're not blind she's killing time and time has murder on the mind
She slurs her words we bat an eye she fills back up
My Sister is a Butcher
And she is pretty calm
A macabre Jim Henson
Wants to die like John Lennon
A classic alibi for mad men
Awakes guiltless with no regret
She's never upset when she stumbles never prouder when she mumbles
Cause the high she needs to heal has made its bed
And her fortress is a mattress and her mattress is a doorstep and her doorstep is a key half cut
And while she claims she's getting higher I know fine well that she's a lying optimistic with a half drained cup
I've heard the same 6 anecdotes so many times that it's a joke
A a wilhelm cackle from a novel rut
No we're not blind she's killing time and time has murder on the mind
She slurs her words we bat an eye she fills back up
No we're not blind she's killing time and time has murder on the mind
She slurs her words we bat an eye she fills back up
Sister Swire - My Sister Is A Butcher Lyrics
Sister Swire - My Sister Is A Butcher Lyrics
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English
My Sister is a Butcher
And she is pretty calm
Lives like a macabre Jim Henson
Wants to die like John Lennon
Has an eye for foreign bodies
Calories sticking to your ribs
She's not working on her foresight 'cause her hindsight is a black light
And the stains a Jackson Pollock of regret
And her fortress is a mattress and her mattress is a doorstep and her doorstep is a key half cut
And while she claims she's getting higher I know fine well that she's a lying optimistic with a half drained cup
My Sister is a Butcher
And she is barely there
Ghosting round a near nirvana
A swollen back and thinning hair
The foul is squawking in the backyard
Squeals with the ever bleeding dawn
She breaks the neck and bastes the breast, teats on the gooseneck like a wine that's blessed
Repetitive and desperate as a psalm
And her fortress is a mattress and her mattress is a doorstep and her doorstep is a key half cut
And while she claims she's getting higher I know fine well that she's a lying optimistic with a half drained cup
I've heard the same 6 anecdotes so many times that it's a joke
A a wilhelm cackle from a novel rut
No we're not blind she's killing time and time has murder on the mind
She slurs her words we bat an eye she fills back up
My Sister is a Butcher
And she is pretty calm
A macabre Jim Henson
Wants to die like John Lennon
A classic alibi for mad men
Awakes guiltless with no regret
She's never upset when she stumbles never prouder when she mumbles
Cause the high she needs to heal has made its bed
And her fortress is a mattress and her mattress is a doorstep and her doorstep is a key half cut
And while she claims she's getting higher I know fine well that she's a lying optimistic with a half drained cup
I've heard the same 6 anecdotes so many times that it's a joke
A a wilhelm cackle from a novel rut
No we're not blind she's killing time and time has murder on the mind
She slurs her words we bat an eye she fills back up
No we're not blind she's killing time and time has murder on the mind
She slurs her words we bat an eye she fills back up
And she is pretty calm
Lives like a macabre Jim Henson
Wants to die like John Lennon
Has an eye for foreign bodies
Calories sticking to your ribs
She's not working on her foresight 'cause her hindsight is a black light
And the stains a Jackson Pollock of regret
And her fortress is a mattress and her mattress is a doorstep and her doorstep is a key half cut
And while she claims she's getting higher I know fine well that she's a lying optimistic with a half drained cup
My Sister is a Butcher
And she is barely there
Ghosting round a near nirvana
A swollen back and thinning hair
The foul is squawking in the backyard
Squeals with the ever bleeding dawn
She breaks the neck and bastes the breast, teats on the gooseneck like a wine that's blessed
Repetitive and desperate as a psalm
And her fortress is a mattress and her mattress is a doorstep and her doorstep is a key half cut
And while she claims she's getting higher I know fine well that she's a lying optimistic with a half drained cup
I've heard the same 6 anecdotes so many times that it's a joke
A a wilhelm cackle from a novel rut
No we're not blind she's killing time and time has murder on the mind
She slurs her words we bat an eye she fills back up
My Sister is a Butcher
And she is pretty calm
A macabre Jim Henson
Wants to die like John Lennon
A classic alibi for mad men
Awakes guiltless with no regret
She's never upset when she stumbles never prouder when she mumbles
Cause the high she needs to heal has made its bed
And her fortress is a mattress and her mattress is a doorstep and her doorstep is a key half cut
And while she claims she's getting higher I know fine well that she's a lying optimistic with a half drained cup
I've heard the same 6 anecdotes so many times that it's a joke
A a wilhelm cackle from a novel rut
No we're not blind she's killing time and time has murder on the mind
She slurs her words we bat an eye she fills back up
No we're not blind she's killing time and time has murder on the mind
She slurs her words we bat an eye she fills back up
Writer: Sarah Swire
Copyright: Lyrics © Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN), O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN), O/B/O DistroKid