Mastas Of Ravenkroft
Salutations
From a greater northwest alley and
Reservations
Every person goes to steak house eight P.M.
You got your rickety bones I got my rickety hands
You got your rickety bones I got my rickety hands
You got your rickety bones I got my rickety hands
(I'll turn it into seduction) I'll turn it into some facts
Medication
And the way your eyes look into me,
Lubrication
Can you turn off all the lights so I can't see?
You got your rickety bones I got my rickety hands
You got your rickety bones I got my rickety hands
You got your rickety bones I got my rickety hands
(And dressin' up like a crow) and turnin' into some rats
X-O, X-O, X-O, X-O
X-O, X-O, X-O, X-O
You got your rickety bones I got my rickety hands
He's got your rickety bones I got my rickety hands
They got your rickety bones I got my rickety hands
(I'm drowning innocent wolves) I'm dressin' up like a cat
You got your rickety bones I got my rickety hands
You got your rickety bones I got them rickety hands
You got your rickety bones I got my rickety hands
So fucking old,
I'm so fucking alone
Writer/s: Frank Iero, Bob Bryar, Ray Toro, Gerard Way, Mikey Way, Michael Pedicone
