Warming Up The Brain Farm

Dear God

The patient's best intentions have sadly faltered

Despite his newly installed, varnished brain, and being

Force-fed gallons of viscous demented liquor, he is

Determined to obtain the new drone spiders' trophy

He dreams of becoming the scorpion who never sweats

Quite frankly I'm sickened to have this individual infiltrate

My head space

He talks of lascivious laughs haunting his every second

As the clock spits, clicks, and time speeds by in the

Form of a neon snake

Massive delusions?

Very probably

I fear for my safety

He is as weak as his fellow man

I am now surrounded by hypocrites, liars, drunks

Clowns, fools, sycophants and the desperate

I insist we barter with the moon to sell the patients

Cohesive lyrical maps in exchange for a vision of the future

Stricken with grief, I have no choice

But to turn to lethal toxins

Hardcore Punk Paste

All stars takin' over

Early draft of lyrics taken from Radio 1 Breeze block DJ set

Dear God

The patient's best intentions have sadly faltered

It has of late become apparent, he's driven by lust and

He's as weak as his fellow colleagues

A hypocrite, surrounded by liars and bed-wetters

Stricken with grief, he turns to lethal toxins

hardcore, Punk Paste

Goodbye Lord

All stars takin' over