The Witch Hunter | Fried Chicken Tuesday (AKA: I Am Not In The Mood Day)

Lyrics

[Intro – Caleb, whisper-rap] Cracked plates, cold light, hush in the booth, Mac don’t blink when he smell that truth. Forks still tremble, floorboard creaks, Chicken stay hot but nobody eats. [Verse 1 – Mac, low and steady] It’s Tuesday, boy, this my rite, Same seat, same tea, same fried light. But she came in hummin’, crooked and wide, Gap in her teeth like a gate to the side. Eyes too clear, voice too calm, Dress like spring but she bring that wrong. Not her first time, won’t be her last, But Lord, I hoped that lunch would pass. [Hook – Caleb & Mac, layered voices] 🎵 The table shakes, the knife goes dull, She sings in sugar, she prays in hull. Cobbler bleeds, tea turns black— There’s no peace once the Witch comes back. No bell rings, no call to arms, Just the silence swell and the loss of charm. And still— Mac don’t flinch, Mac don’t flee, ‘Cause the witch in the diner came lookin’ for me. 🎵 [Verse 2 – Christina, eerie sing-song] I came from Maui with a whisper in my shoe, Miami gave me lessons in what shadows do. My hair is a question, my laugh is a bruise, I curse without movin’—you pick when you lose. I lick the spoon, the salt recoils, The grease in the fryer starts to boil. You know my name though I never said it, You feel my spell though I never bled it. [Bridge – California Kyle, off-beat interlude] Yo... sorry, uh—this gluten free? Anyone seen the cat that was followin’ me? Y’all energy’s weird, real moonlight on a grave… Mac, you good? Okay, I’ll behave… [Verse 3 – Mac, rising anger] I gave this town my knees, my back, Hammered hexes into railroad track. Buried friends, salted fields, Drove stakes where the veil don’t yield. Now she back, slingin’ cobbler like sin, Smilin’ like a trap I seen within. And I just wanted lunch— Is that too much? One hour, no ghosts, no curse, no clutch. [Final Hook – All] 🎵 The table shakes, the ketchup screams, The floorboards split with swallowed dreams. The hunter rises, the tea glass breaks— Even peace got a price when the witch awakes. No choir here, no saint’s defense, Just Mac and his blade and the consequence. One cut, no cries, no speech, no grace— Just quiet... When he clears the place. 🎵