DESCRIPTION:
When you wake in the morning
A clear sky is dawning
So you button your suit
And you head down to the strip

Where your tools of trade sit

A retrofitted device
To spread the muck round real nice

Fire the bird up and check
All the hairs on your pencil neck
They should be electric
Your agenda is septic

So you head to the heavens
But your soul rides in hell
Level off at a height
That lever to your right
Unleashes the payload below

You ain't Father Christmas
You cover the isthmus
A toxicological cloud flare
An inhalation nightmare

Lets meet you where you land
Show you the back of my hand
You cock eyed pandering half man
Half walking jellyfish with no spine
And the IQ of a termite with its head bitten off
Chewed up and spat back out again in disgust

Your mind's like rust

When the landing committee
Arrive from the city
Hundreds and thousands
Abandoning their housing

Emerging from their cars
Underneath the bright blue sky scars
Watching your plane
As it lands
Upon the asphalt or the sands

Storming party begins
To catalogue your sins
Crop dusting citizens
Like slugs under Blitzem

Show you what we think of your cretinous activities

Breathe in deep you're surrounded
By the ones that you've hounded
Of all ages and races
You poisoned all their places

Its your debt to pay
At the end of the day
You'll carry the scars
You've earned them by far
You've earned them by far