Plagues and Bacon Hail Mary Mallon
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Plagues and Bacon" by Hail Mary Mallon. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro]
-Well, we've got garlic, we've got some mushrooms, potatoes, carrots and parsnips...
-Ah, I'm a fan of parsnips
-...lots of rosemary, 'cause I'm a fan of rosemary
[Verse 1: Aesop Rock]
If in the obituary column, sniff it
It was written by the forks and knives of Mary Mallon
Fever in the stew, sorta buried in rabbits and boiled cabbage
Had a little lamb - it was average
Coulda been a Magdellan, Mary had a craft
It would ask her to master the oven of Manhattan's upper class
On a budget, lunched with the cemetery staff
Til her resume had slashed through the stomachs of the public
Everyone around you is dying
Everything you touch caught the pest
Imagine for a second the unrest
When the fruit of your labor is like a poison to the
Very employers you are laboring to impress
Queen Mary Midas, if gold is a rose-colored virus
Alive in the vilest environments around
Ladle in the soup
Feed you the spices in which you are later cooked
[Interlude]
...OK, so the flour is there, and you mix in the butter, so we're then going to add in a little bit of water...
-Well, we've got garlic, we've got some mushrooms, potatoes, carrots and parsnips...
-Ah, I'm a fan of parsnips
-...lots of rosemary, 'cause I'm a fan of rosemary
[Verse 1: Aesop Rock]
If in the obituary column, sniff it
It was written by the forks and knives of Mary Mallon
Fever in the stew, sorta buried in rabbits and boiled cabbage
Had a little lamb - it was average
Coulda been a Magdellan, Mary had a craft
It would ask her to master the oven of Manhattan's upper class
On a budget, lunched with the cemetery staff
Til her resume had slashed through the stomachs of the public
Everyone around you is dying
Everything you touch caught the pest
Imagine for a second the unrest
When the fruit of your labor is like a poison to the
Very employers you are laboring to impress
Queen Mary Midas, if gold is a rose-colored virus
Alive in the vilest environments around
Ladle in the soup
Feed you the spices in which you are later cooked
[Interlude]
...OK, so the flour is there, and you mix in the butter, so we're then going to add in a little bit of water...
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