Dying is My Favourite Type of Hue (feat. The Stupendium)

Lyrics: Connor Gerrard Music: Connor Gerrard CQ: London Bridge is falling down Falling down, falling down Oh, my apologies, I haven't introduced myself, now where to start? Well, there's a colour that you turn when you're covered in concern From the hands around your tightened throat That aura on display mixed with horror on your face Forms a flawless pure kaleidoscope Selfishness and greed from your heritage will lead To a warped and poisoned mind that is broke Cast into the dark, but the shadow just enlarged Thrive in the night like lycanthrop Please sir, can I have some gore? There's a horrible twist I've in store Fed up with bread full of lice what would instead suffice Last breaths of a passing whore Been discreet within the dingy streets The job dirties my mits like the chimney sweeps Existence a plague, I can bring relief The tears spill like paint, it been drip from cheeks Most dangerous grifter placed in Westminster Exit stage left quick fade into mist, a Feint apparition, they faint at the vision If England needs a villain, I'll take that position They wanna rid of the Ripper But risk getting ripped in my rig of meticulous rigour Scribble my image from scripture, but Didn't consider that history's written by the sinners Stup: London Bridge is falling A new day's for you's not dawning Any time soon The knife looms The bells will ring and chime Signalling your ending life Show me inside you 'Cause dying is my favourite type of hue CQ: Extra, extra! Read all about it! Jack the Ripper claims fifteen more lives! Terroriser of the streets of London Town! Everyone run for your lives! Causing a scene and palava Taking my beef to the carver Sweet and a charmer You're in my seat at the barbers, Sweeney but sharper Gatwick, I come with some baggage Troubled little lad making a fuss and a panic Bloody up a dash inside a bus or a carriage Royalty fell like a bed in Buckingham Palace Let's king size Big Ben tick tick, chime hit strikes like midnight Good slash, evil witch side Step on top of those thin lines, trip lives Brushed off like dirt on an apron Dust and muss on the curb of the pavement Murderous assailant averting surveillance A curse on the nation, it lurks in the stations Butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker They all saw the papers, and thought they were safer Learned their mistake when I walked into town One by one they all fall down Stup&CQ: London Bridge is falling A new day's for you's not dawning Any time soon The knife looms The bells will ring and chime Signalling your ending life Show me inside you 'Cause dying is my favourite type of hue