A kettle of vultures makes a gruesome stew
They gather where hunters abandon a deer
Sit still for too long, and they might feed on you.
They eat things dead for days with nary a fear.
They gather where hunters abandon a deer.
They circle the skies until they see food.
They eat things dead for days with nary a fear.
Dead, not alive, is what they find good.
They circle the skies until they see food.
Sit still for too long, and they might feed on you.
Dead, not alive, is what they find good.
A kettle of vultures makes a gruesome stew.
They gather where hunters abandon a deer
Sit still for too long, and they might feed on you.
They eat things dead for days with nary a fear.
They gather where hunters abandon a deer.
They circle the skies until they see food.
They eat things dead for days with nary a fear.
Dead, not alive, is what they find good.
They circle the skies until they see food.
Sit still for too long, and they might feed on you.
Dead, not alive, is what they find good.
A kettle of vultures makes a gruesome stew.
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