Please come down to the warehouse
His followers are comin' through
They will make you say grace, but your mouth will be full of food
They will make you say grace, raise your glass high
Your mouth already drippin' red with wine
Red with wine
Please come down to the warehouse
They're prayin' over plates of food
They will roll their mats out
Sleep on the concrete, sleep on the roof
They will dance in circles, raise their feathers high
Play that boombox sermon: what a glory to die
A glory to die
Does anyone remember the story of Tolliver and Jobby Skrew?
Said "I look just like him! Take me for the blame!"
Like what if Peter stood up, said "He was my friend"
"He was my friend"
Please come down to the warehouse
His followers are comin' through
They will make you say grace, but your mouth will be full of food
They will make you say grace, raise your glass high
Your mouth already drippin' red with wine
A glory to die
Red with wine
Red