You Can Eat Me
Covey
[Verse]
I won't make this trip, I'm already dead
You can eat me, if you need to
But I won't taste right, as you chew through
All the good times that we outgrew
You feel the salt wind hit your heavy, wet hair
That the heat wave couldn't dry out
Now you're crying with a stiff mouth
That still tastes like your last bite
Of my left leg that's now sheet white
As the flies come in the dead of night
You start to venture through the ever-thick trees
Feet are tired, eyes are weary
You find a stray fox in a plane wreck
With a split lip and a cracked neck
There's a left shoe at the fox's feet
Must've flown here cross the big sea