Roadside Burial Remix by Insane Poetry Lyrics
[Chorus: Insane Poetry]
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Another victim of my roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
Saw it from a crows-eye aerial
Another one of my roadside burials
[Verse 1: Insane Poetry]
Yeah! It's Edgar Allan Holiman
And my genre's been possessed by a haunted pen
Write death that's astonishing
I blacked out then I followed them
Cornered them encountered them
Then gave 'em all 'til the count of tеn
You see I listen to the voices and thе sounds within
I bound their limbs then drove 'em out to a mountain ridge
Deserted place in the space where they used to counsel kids
Where the town forbids for you to be and shoot that's not your biz
Even the sheriffs aware of my nightly actions
Behind the parish it's apparent that I might be slashin'
Rip 'em open fast with slivers of broken glass
Witness your throat get slashed
Wicked, my soul is damned
This is how I treat people I meet
Accidentally on purpose not even knowing underneath my strategy was perfect
I keep 'em cozy, I keep 'em 'til I don't need 'em
They bodies I cast away outside of town in a shallow grave
[Chorus: Insane Poetry]
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Another victim of my roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
Saw it from a crows-eye aerial
Another one of my roadside burials
[Verse 2: Řezník]
[?]
[Chorus: Insane Poetry]
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Another victim of my roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
Saw it from a crows-eye aerial
Another one of my roadside burials
[Verse 3: SCUM]
Your pussy wall is fuckin' blown up like a tire on your whip
Fulfilling every sick desire even stuffing a pistol grip of a Mossberg Pump
And that semen dump in the futile hopes that he can impress
I'm pullin' her nipples hooked to ropes while covered in blood and bare assed
We let it sink in that your story's 'bout to end
Turn off the camera, get the hammer like you're sinking in quicksand
Let's not pretend there's any way that this can go and you survive
And get released, but hey, at least we don't just bury you alive
Pull over Cyco 'cause this looks like the perfect spot
Secluded lot by a gravel road for a shallow plot that is likely not
To be discovered by the police for another twenty years
A little long will go unnoticed 'cause nobody really cares
About a couple of missing persons as we roam
Across the country on a spree you will see many not coming home
There will have to be a lot of graves that we gotta dig and improvise
That's how it goes gonna cross some roads and at LSP everybody dies
[Chorus: Insane Poetry]
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Another victim of my roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
Saw it from a crows-eye aerial
Another one of my roadside burials
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Another victim of my roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
Saw it from a crows-eye aerial
Another one of my roadside burials
[Verse 1: Insane Poetry]
Yeah! It's Edgar Allan Holiman
And my genre's been possessed by a haunted pen
Write death that's astonishing
I blacked out then I followed them
Cornered them encountered them
Then gave 'em all 'til the count of tеn
You see I listen to the voices and thе sounds within
I bound their limbs then drove 'em out to a mountain ridge
Deserted place in the space where they used to counsel kids
Where the town forbids for you to be and shoot that's not your biz
Even the sheriffs aware of my nightly actions
Behind the parish it's apparent that I might be slashin'
Rip 'em open fast with slivers of broken glass
Witness your throat get slashed
Wicked, my soul is damned
This is how I treat people I meet
Accidentally on purpose not even knowing underneath my strategy was perfect
I keep 'em cozy, I keep 'em 'til I don't need 'em
They bodies I cast away outside of town in a shallow grave
[Chorus: Insane Poetry]
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Another victim of my roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
Saw it from a crows-eye aerial
Another one of my roadside burials
[Verse 2: Řezník]
[?]
[Chorus: Insane Poetry]
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Another victim of my roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
Saw it from a crows-eye aerial
Another one of my roadside burials
[Verse 3: SCUM]
Your pussy wall is fuckin' blown up like a tire on your whip
Fulfilling every sick desire even stuffing a pistol grip of a Mossberg Pump
And that semen dump in the futile hopes that he can impress
I'm pullin' her nipples hooked to ropes while covered in blood and bare assed
We let it sink in that your story's 'bout to end
Turn off the camera, get the hammer like you're sinking in quicksand
Let's not pretend there's any way that this can go and you survive
And get released, but hey, at least we don't just bury you alive
Pull over Cyco 'cause this looks like the perfect spot
Secluded lot by a gravel road for a shallow plot that is likely not
To be discovered by the police for another twenty years
A little long will go unnoticed 'cause nobody really cares
About a couple of missing persons as we roam
Across the country on a spree you will see many not coming home
There will have to be a lot of graves that we gotta dig and improvise
That's how it goes gonna cross some roads and at LSP everybody dies
[Chorus: Insane Poetry]
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Another victim of my roadside burial (burial)
You are just a roadside burial (burial)
Just another roadside burial (burial)
Saw it from a crows-eye aerial
Another one of my roadside burials