Old brigadier
Helping
Old lady pack
Cold cold cold unfresh groceries
Old brigadier
Watching
Scissors fall down
Fall down fall down like rain
And it will never stop, no it never stops
Old brigadier
Crumples
Himself inside
Some tiny little
Little little tiny little oven
And it’s over
For him, her and me
And for everybody else
So we all take our sits
In a bus straight to hell
We’re all clowns
Old brigadier
Used to fly so up high
But now he’s
Roasted, toasted, crunchy, crispy,
Suicide.