Handmade in Dunedin <3
trace / untrace records 2019
Only 30 made!
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lyrics
There’s a boy down on the farm, his name is Billy Brine
Born the year of Nineteen-Sixty Anno Domini Bovine
Tobacco juice drips out from his cleft lip, and pools between his teeth
If ya don’t like how he looks, then you should see what’s underneath
He’s running out of hope so just to cope he goes to sleep
And dreams about the bible and of digging holes real deep
A stream of panicked screams, he plays out scenes with acts so grim
Like killing tramps and making lamps from pieces of their skin
Did you get some sleep today, Billy?
Late one night, to quench his thirst, he drinks straight from the well
But the water tastes quite bitter and it has an awful smell
He thinks he can hear voices somewhere out there on the farm
So he quickly snuffs his lantern and he sneaks into the barn
And the cow said,
“Move into it slowly, I want to feel your skin
I like it when you hold me by the ears and scratch my chin
Merge with the unholy, receive your next of kin
And slice them really slowly, let me feed on what’s within”
Fever pitch, he feels a switch, to scratch the itch he roams the streets
And swings the hatchet wildly while he’s talking on repeat
He snags one in an alley and he wraps her in a sheet
Then he offers her to them, and still the voices don’t retreat
Where’d you get your meat today, Billy?
He puts her in the trunk and then he dunks in for a swim,
There’s whispers in the water and they’re whispering at him
The voices sound familiar, surely they cannot be real
But that recipe they’re repeating sure sounds like a lovely meal
He grabs a piece of deadwood and he wafts away the flies
And uses bits of sticks to scrape the bugs out from her eyes
She smells a bit like custard but the meat is nice and tender
The skin’s coming loose and turning translucent, best to use the blender
Did you get some sleep today?
Is the cow in heat today?
Where’d you get your meat today?
Whatcha gonna eat today, Billy?
supported by 7 fans who also own “Billy Brine & The Corn-Fed Beef”
the drummers my neighbour and keeps leaving half eaten snickers in my letter box. fucking hate that guy. tho I appreciate that they practise while im out at work KENNY CHARLTON!
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