oh Lord/if I only could let kittens raise out of the dust/it would be war//I can see all of them exploding out in the town/a storm of paw scratches and moustaches covered in blood and we’ll made all those damn’ rats cry out the day they fucking popped out and filth this blessed soil and there won’t even be time to ask for a merciful fate streams of sad tears will be washing out the trashcans weep weep weep until it real hurts until your bones will stretch your fat cheeks until your tears burn and your face is deformed as it smiled ‘til it breaks down weep scream weep sigh your last sigh and prepare to be erased from this spot and repent for all the squeaky laughter having fun of this chant of war this is no joke man we’ll cut your woolrich scalp out so watch your self hard ah but I can see myself stuck in the bloody hole I’ve ever been the same bloody person, if it was up to me to free you from disgust I’d made myself blow out wish I had a bomb shirt a bomb suit just like the lemmings game they weren’t afraid to die when done properly
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