Indigenous apocalypse, decimated forest, the Winter of our discontent's upon us
Desolate apostles, left with Strongbow at the crossroads
We are nothing but an eating mouth, oesophagus, colossal
We won't stop until we've beaten down the planet into pellets
Before the interstellar mission to inflict more terror
It's killing me, it's killing me, it's filling me, I'm vomiting, it's still in me
Everything is fine really, silly me
Poor kids shot dead, poor kids locked up
Poor kids saying, "This is the future that you left us?"
Stopped up lunch meat, processed, punch from an unclean fatcat
Tasty, tasty poison
Carcinogenic, diabetic, asthmatic, epileptic, post-traumatic, bipolar and disaffected
Atomised, thinking we're engaged when we're pacified
Staring at the screen so we don't have to see the planet die