Portugal. The Man Lyrics

10. Kill Me. The King

Basking briefly in this overeating indulgence of insides 
But I fear he's lower than before 
Though he's stronger than he looks 
He's made of feathers mixed with oil and small servings 
Of hands and feet 

Up so high 
"How do they flutter so damn high?" 

Now begin the search that hails you home 
"I think I lost my means." 
He said with his face in the cup 
Desperate times make for desperate people

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