From the recording Smith's Grove
An ode to Tarrare; showman, soldier, spy, and medical freak.
Lyrics
Eat
That's what they're saying to me
I'm what they came here to feed
And everyone here can see
That I'm a fucking freak
Like a living disease
That's all I'll ever be
Just forget about me
You're running out of time
Consume what you may find
We'll all be left behind
So what's the fucking crime
You're running out of time
Consume what you may find
We'll all be left behind
So what's the fucking crime
Fuck
I swallow all that I touch
It's really never enough
Now my stomach is stuffed
But still
I'm fucking loving the thrill
Of going in for the kill
Don't be shy, have your fill
You're running out of time
Consume what you may find
We'll all be left behind
So what's the fucking crime
You're running out of time
Consume what you may find
We'll all be left behind
So what's the fucking crime
Bite, chew, swallow, repeat
Bite, chew, swallow, repeat
Bite, chew, swallow, repeat
Bite, chew
Bite, chew, swallow, repeat
Bite, chew, swallow, repeat
Bite, chew, swallow, repeat
Bite, chew
You're running out of time
Consume what you may find
We'll all be left behind
So what's the fucking crime
You're running out of time
Consume what you may find
We'll all be left behind
So what's the fucking crime