BIG SPECIAL - BUTCHER'S BIN (Official Video)

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  • Опубликовано: 17 сен 2024
  • From BIG SPECIAL
    Their New Single
    BUTCHER'S BIN
    Video by Isaac Watson
    Click subscribe to hear more
    Listen here: lnk.to/BUTCHER...
    Pre-order our debut album POSTINDUSTRIAL HOMETOWN BLUES: lnk.to/POSTIND....
    BIG SPECIAL Live: www.songkick.c....
    Instagram:
    / bigspecial_
    www.bigspecial...
    (LYRICS)
    (Right!
    Well!
    Right!
    Oh well!)
    I am a Butcher's bin
    Looking up at you
    A fresh bouquet of limbs
    Kiss me on my flaccid will
    Bring to me my tea and pill
    My husk atop your windowsill
    Stuck with ribboned pins
    (Well!)
    Toss my tongue to the dogs
    With my shoes and my socks
    With my cap and my coat
    With my bones and my chops
    I'm a bouquet of limbs
    And there's nothing left to do
    I am a Butcher's bin
    And so are you
    (Right!)
    I've earnt my chops
    They're strung up in the street
    Everyone is on the jog, living off the beat
    Bricky, judge or dog
    It's all just city meat
    Hanging in the shop fronts
    Strung up in the street
    (Well!)
    I'm swinging here - some singing hog
    I should give it up and get back on the job
    I can't walk straight
    I'm just meat, dreams and gob
    Hang me on a hook, some singing hog
    (Right!)
    You don't shoot the butcher when
    You've got a truckload of dead pigs
    I just want to keep my partner and my digs
    It's just not clear what the payment is
    There's stock in my pot
    I got some but not a lot
    The pocket is a void echoing
    "Gimme what ya got!"
    But there's no pay for strange labour
    To them it just seems I've too much time
    Like I've been granted some strange favour
    And spare time is a hard crime
    If it’s guts you want, I'll fall on my sabre
    God is in purpose son
    And there's no pay for strange labour
    (Well well well…
    Well!
    Right!)
    A big fan of the two step back
    You got some moves Jack
    Is that the tango or a heart attack?
    He had a voice of purest gold
    Lungs of deepest black
    Is that the tango or a heart attack?
    He had a voice of purest gold
    Lungs of deepest black
    (Huh!)
    I am a Butcher's bin
    Looking up at you
    A fresh bouquet of limbs
    Kiss me on my flaccid will
    Bring to me my tea and pill
    My husk atop your windowsill
    Stuck with ribboned pins
    Toss my tongue to the dogs
    With my shoes and my socks
    With my cap and my coat
    With my bones and my chops
    I'm a bouquet of limbs
    And there's nothing left to do
    I am a Butcher's bin
    And so are you
    (Well!
    Right!
    Right!
    Oh well!)

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