Feelin' Chicken

You’re killing me with bacon America

Killing me with smog and taxes likes axes in my neck

Like hogs to the slaughter what do I tell my daughters

Daddy’s all heart when he’s pushing a cart way downtown

When the skin is brown and eyes are the size of a deficit

You’re killing me with bacon America

Just like the Indians with tobacco and flour and firewater

All scabs in rehabs sick in the blood

face down in the mud

All hype and gripes

the stars and stripes

Ain't my flag today

I want to belong

I want to be proud but you’re gay bashing voices are so fucking loud

When choices shrieking like bacon in a pan

The spatter of hot grease

Spitting like mad geese

Barbers in Baghdad

I am a college grad

But my life is a want ad

You’re killing me with bacon America

How shall I pray the old fashion way down on my knees to the god of the weak

Or dick deep in my squeeze

We're in a red rubber nose, clown clothes

Laughing as we come and saying something stupid like I love you

One egg split two eggs three makes it four legs why is it opposite

Anyone’s sweater makes it feel better wrapped up so tight in it

Monday is two days three makes it always when is it going to fit

Everyone’s laughter caught by the nutter winging their webs so glib

Everybody grooves,

What the fuck grooves

Four days fit five days, six ways to Sunday

What if the world is shit

One ear splits two hairs

Three inching war dicks

Where is the love in it

Watch from the rafters

He’s running after

Noise from the chicken’s tit

Five days fit four days, six ways to Sunday

What if the world is shit

Everybody grooves

What the fuck grooves