hunting season from mangled by floricide

in your camouflage and your ripped jeans
playing target practice doesn't feel like practice to me
your shiny guns wait for you in their oak and velvet case
it's not the kill you love the most, it's the thrill of the chase

choking on my pooling blood
you get the glory, i'm just guts

your cabin by the lake, secluded, made for lovers
made for gutting, cutting up, and hiding under covers

choking on my pooling blood
you get the glory, i'm just guts

i can't take this anymore
i'm playing dead on your bedroom floor
you're just another boy who kills for sport
creating casualties in your pretend war

choking on my unspooled guts
when i am gory you are glorious

• Alternative
• bedroom
• lo-fi
• singer-songwriter
• Wisconsin