We’re all world-wide capital investment junk
Money is money forgetting who I’ve been inside
The 50 cent’res devils hands, they know they are too,
The town crawling, oxygen-gasp, mud-eating proles.
Body fluid carpet, tickle armpit noise
Turning ‘I know you do it for all the boys’
I might have ended up in these wicked gates
Concrete, pine trees, walking fuel, woodlice cower.
When you’ve had your bath in the dark
Come and discuss how we’ll all give up smoking
Dead meat for body, ticking pulse humming
While you start to grow a beard, betrayal of humanity.
Your liquid dinner is ready soon
Germing weeds sprout, the pain of being a man
Neon lights and plastic spoon,
Current gambling pastime, if I never call.