[Intro: Skeleton Lode]
Hatchet in his head
We'll roll him up in a carpet
All's Well That Ends Well
Carry him up the staircase
Wu-Tang, Black Knights
Holocaust, Skeleton Lode,
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
West Coast
The flyest shit ever, Yo, Yo
Smash a roach in a pipe and smoke it
[Verse 1: Skeleton Lode]
A bloodstained diary, snakes in the bathtub
Run through the meadow laughing with revolvers
Mean man Skeleton Lode, insane
Will scream in pain, sometimes it does rain
Cannonball trees, Uzis and flamingos
Dead men mumble, grab me when I stumble
Swig on whisky, actress tried to kiss me
Blew it from across the room but it missed me
Now at the Bombay chat house with pistols
Might tip my hat, whistling in the graveyard
Shells on the street, Holocaust is cold
Now known as Skeleton Lode, devils fold
Blue socks fancy red shoe
When it rains the flowers drip candy
Couldn't understand me, pistol on the dresser
Never was lesser, lay you on the stretcher
Slit his wrist with the piece of a broken record
Music from the Sun, lonely hitchhiker
In the darkest corners of the city
In the darkest corner
[Chorus: Skeleton Lode]
The planet gets priced for what it gives us
A beggar taxed for a corner to die in
The crooked priest has his fee, who doesn't live trust
And we bargain for the graves that we lie in
While at the Devil's booth all things are sold
Each ounce of junk costs its ounce in gold
Knowledge to the poorest comer free and lavish this summer makes
Myself quit shucking and jiving
[Verse 2: Skeleton Lode]
The light in the distance, spider crawling on marbles
Lay in an empty pool with a pistol
Wu-Tang official whistle like a missile
White House with black walls, come correct
Music in Iraq, kiss you in the darkness
Whisper to the daylight, circus at the gravesite
Fe-Fo-Fum, where is Francesca?
A shovel fell over, sitting, smoking yeska
Bloody fiesta, man without a name though
One zombie went out over to touch the rainbow
Gun in my coat, the bar just closed
A white owl biting a rose, sat froze
Winding back roads, swerve in a garbage truck
Of all things I've lost, I miss my mind the most
Big West Coast, heavy smoke
A well dressed skeleton slowly cuts your throat
MCs find themselves falling down
Lost in the sound, drink until you drown
The funny old man and his wife stay on the mountain
We guzzle wine, La-La-La-La
[Chorus: Skeleton Lode]
The planet gets priced for what it gives us
A beggar taxed for a corner to die in
The crooked priest has his fee, who doesn't live trust
And we bargain for the graves that we lie in
While at the Devil's booth all things are sold
Each ounce of junk costs its ounce in gold
Knowledge to the poorest comer free and lavish this summer makes
Myself quit shucking and jiving
[Verse 3: Skeleton Lode]
A hand in the darkness, Bats Fly in the Rain
We play where the dead man hang, a spiked brain
Coffee on the table, skeletons in the walls
Wander down the cobwebbed halls until you fall
Deep in a coffin, look at the wooden crates
My pistol changes shapes, bullet holes in your drapes
Soap in the dirt, plates in the lake
The clown with the tearaway face is selling cake
Roaches in a shoebox, mice in the guitar
Just through the woods and over, it isn't far
Drink up the bar, pour bullets into a shot glass
Stomp through the attic, blood smeared on the window
A Purple Rose from Cairo
A match fell down the tunnel in slow motion
Walk at the bottom of the ocean with a notion
A man selling pictures, lonely on the road
Mean man Skeleton Lode, from the cold
When he walks through the crowd, their heads explode
Stand in the doorway, came from California
Headdress short a few feathers, Face the Music
[Chorus: Skeleton Lode]
The planet gets priced for what it gives us
A beggar taxed for a corner to die in
The crooked priest has his fee, who doesn't live trust
And we bargain for the graves that we lie in
While at the Devil's booth all things are sold
Each ounce of junk costs its ounce in gold
Knowledge to the poorest comer free and lavish this summer makes
Myself quit shucking and jiving
The planet gets priced for what it gives us
A beggar taxed for a corner to die in
The crooked priest has his fee, who doesn't live trust
And we bargain for the graves that we lie in
While at the Devil's booth all things are sold
Each ounce of junk costs its ounce in gold
Knowledge to the poorest comer free and lavish this summer makes
Myself quit shucking and jiving
