Devin Townsend Album

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A cute little bunny with a family of his own
Goes out one day to bring some supper home
Then SMACK goes a semi as it smashes him dead
Cracking open his furry bunny-rabbit head
There was blood on the road, there was brains on the path
Poor little bunny, half and half
And as the heat of the sun dried the blood to his bones
Poor little bunny ain't going home.

Blood and guts, brains and noses
Poor little bunny ain't got no toes-es
Listen to me because I want a reaction
All I ever find is a steaming little pile of

ROAD KILL!
Intestines on my tire
DEAD MEAT!
Do you want a rabbit's feet?
ROAD KILL!
ROAD KILL!


-Can you... pass the ketchup-

Furry little squirrel, looking for some nuts
-just hand me a napkin-
And then a Hyundai hits it
Spewing out his guts
And the deer, if you could call it that,
We found up on the rocks and PQQQUUICK!
On the windshield goes Mr Fabby Fox


Blood and guts, pus and boogers
All I ever find are the mutilated cougars
Listen to me because I want a reaction
All I ever find is just a steaming little pile of

ROAD KILL!
Intestines on my tire
DEAD MEAT!
Do you want a rabbit's feet?
ROAD KILL!
ROAD KILL!
ROAD KILL!

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I watch you
In my silence
I was you Last grey morning
I want you
And I cast you
And I face disaster

(Chorus) I ask you, being man
I have less use for dignification I know,
In myself, I defy,
Yet I fall to instinct primitive
Am I here?
Is this home?
...better run from myself, better run...
I want you
Silently forgiven
I want you
The pain bestowed

(chorus) I feel a change in the air,
Outstretched to God,
He fields the suffering
A feeling close to me, who closes in?
I knew I didn't have to go
Feeding stop the hunger flat, low, living,
Caution for a lunatic...
Left her behind, god-damnit
She didn't have the luck to follow
Well here's a little lie about the man she stole away
'Night within a soul cries 'hallelujah' when your drowning'...
Once, fast below, woman... It's fault is not your own,
And as you are to my world, my world shall always be to you,
you fucker...
Feed me,
woman...
I want you

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Forty years from now,
Will I still be scratching away at this hole,
Will I look back into this jar and see a presence worth mentioning?

I'll be in Amsterdam in the morning,
Walking in the footsteps of what I once believed in

Forty years from now,
Will I still be za-onda-way at this hole,
We-saw-na-mentioning
I'll be in Amsterdam in the morning,
Walking in the footsteps of what I once believed in

I know the sign,
In soft morning light,
I know...
I know...

I know the light
Is it so over?
I know the light

Down the water...
If you say it's over then it's
ron-zay-a-zone-y-eow-so...