Malady from BEAK & DESTROY by The Fucking Eagles

MALADY

Malady, how has this come to be my love
This heart of mine, ripped ripe to drip from vines above
Snakes collude, and loose what wolves we had at bay
Another midnight sour, strips sick the waning light from day

We’re getting high on electric
Another falsified non-metric
All the stars align un-symmetric
And it all implodes

We’re getting high on electric
Another falsified non-metric
All the stars align un-symmetric
And it all implodes

Malady, how has this come to be again
This heart of mine, ripped ripe to drip it never ends
Wolves conspire, to hunt what snakes had slipped away
A final midnight sour, we’re on our knees but never pray

We’re getting high on electric
Another falsified non-metric
All the stars align un-symmetric
And it all implodes

We’re getting high on electric
Another falsified non-metric
All the stars align un-symetric
And it all implodes

We’re getting high on electric
Another falsified non-metric
All the stars align un-symmetric
And it all implodes

We’re getting high on electric
Another falsified non-metric
All the stars align un-symetric
And it all implodes

• Rock
• comedy
• garage punk
• gospel
• party rock
• slop pop
• Tacoma