A pig in the grass
Sounds at scratching and bratching,
Scratching and bratching are sounds
Of the world at its last.

My fingers are turning into bugs and talking to eachother
chitter-chatter legs sawin'
SAW mobbing, spraying darts 725
per min
Good times and sin, splayed soulless
on the street sobbin'
Lobbin' handgrenades in the darkness, heartless
Target, large and approaching, less man than machine
Sent to roll over you and me
The nail that stands up
will be beaten down

Gravel floor flip flop skidding
Soap on the tile
File down, contour
Cut out all the
fat
Sharp knives for that
sawbone skinnin'
filet mignon
A dance and a song
sell it at a fools price
vermin and lice
burn burn burn
Make a berm all around the structure and burn all the cockroaches out
Easier to go about, exterminate, refuse to think about
The consequences of the new plastic era
We're burying ourselves