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lyrics

It's getting harder to wake up alone on Halloween
The apples have all gone bad and the razor blades have lost their sheen
There's a chill in the air tonight, there's an extra hitch in my step
I got bruises I can't remember, you've got a voice I can't forget

You're my prize spider
So pull those webs a little tighter

Crumpled up under the BQE is no way to spend a Saturday night
And I gotta go play this show, are you sure you're gonna be alright?
Now you've got me talking to the cops, I hope this doesn't become a thing
I hope that spike, it came out all right, 'cause I'll be seeing you in my dreams

You're my prize spider
So pull those webs a little tighter

And we're going door to door tonight
So open your eyes, 'cause you're giving me a fright

You're my prize spider
So pull those webs a little tighter

credits

from No Jury in the World Would Convict Me, released November 9, 2016

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The World's Greatest Detective Brooklyn, New York

The world doesn't need any more straight white men singing about their feelings, but, well, here we are.

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