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Fairmont
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The Embalmer
The embalmer is in so let me begin, she makes the incision, she draws the blood out it floods in pools of crimson, drips to the floor with a deafening thud. At night she sings to them, their stares are harsh and cold. At night she sings to them, as up their souls will float and she sings Ladada ladada song for the suffering, song for the dead Ladada ladada Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com it gets them from this world into the next. The embalmer is in so let me begin, she writes her stories she writes her prose. Cutting, gutting, sewing and mending, the smile from her face it never goes. And when she's had enough she'll go work in a coffee shop, but these jobs are the same, the people are all so lame.
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