first the cloud of radioactive dust appeared on the horizon. the glint of 5G drones could be seen maneuvering above the vague swirl of dust motes, spraying nanoparticles on the shuffling herd of snurdz below. as the approaching army became more distinct, it was obvious that each bumbling stumbler, apparently drunk on drain cleaner or paint thinner, held a smartphone that fixed it's gaze and barked orders. the confused mass of grimy zombies stumbled and bumbled along, drinking glyphosate colas while walking into walls or falling into ditches, occasionally stopping to mow a lawn--any lawn-- or line up for a radioactive nanotech injection. their eyes would occasionally wander from their smartphone screens to scan the landscape in vain for burgerslop joints or taco trucks where they might obtain roachburgers, worm meat burritos, or the slug sushi they so desperately craved. the snurdz twitched and jerked spasmodically as they clomped along, noses running pink slime. replicants in my mess all day mutated cockroaches hacking my phone subhumans insane with a chip in the brain tone-deaf clones want to jump my bones bug-eyed reptoids cramping my style giant pink leeches want to suck me dry glowing green sludge backing up in the sink pigmeat falling from a pea-green sky roachburger sloppy joe stinking on your plate rat genes mixed in the GMO taco truck exhaust & the gasoline sauce toxic farts @ the fashion show as mastodons thrash hysterically in the tar pit snurdz on dust (4x) tweekers twerking @ the truckstop tavern tapwater tubeheads parrot their profs ugly dogs do the nasty with hogs so they can bite your wallet while they sweat in the trough imitation carpetbaggers line around the block mindless brainwashed mob-rule throngs a hundred trillion more where they came from dirtbag weenie-waggers all day long cheapskate chuzzler counting his change drown your sorrows till you choke to death turkey neck fertilizer soup full of televisions burger slop body odor taco breath as bozo moshers flop around in the muck snurdz on dust (3x) this town needs an enema checkin' my phone, checkin' my phone they put a bag up over your head & gave you the bozo suckerpunch now you've got pig snouts up your booty & you've got spider meat in your lunch the donkey in the closet is stinking up the house the rats are red sneaking under the gate & the bankster jackals all circle the spoils of the brontosaurs that disintegrate crash & cries as the dinosaurs die & all the arachnids hit the skids the 33 spies all got black eyes & tumbled from the top of the pyramid as pea-brain tyrannosaurs mate in congress snurdz on dust (3x) this town needs an enema checkin' my phone, checkin' my phone

i'm tired of the pseudo-humanoids on my block. they're having conversations with protoplasmic bleepnids undulating languages of gibberish. they're radiating a ten-dimensional vortex vacuum of major suction, with a penetrating scanner effect that will melt your eyeballs from phoenix. i've got antennas all over the place & rotating sentinel geodes tuned to ionospheres beyond neptune, but it hasn't helped-- i'm getting me a bad mojo with a shockfire ray! i'm sick of the ceiling liquefying with that shrieking feedback echo that brings those metallic insect things scuttling all over my equipment. i'm tired of these phantom holograms following me into the bathroom, & these fly-sized probes buzzing me. (sometimes things will suddenly accelerate). they've brought the laundromats with cash bilked from soda drones & gnarly hypochondriac boot-sniffers, stumblebum fundamentalist telemarketer types with car dealerships gone haywire & recently resurfacing as blowhard guru chumps with accents. they've altered the sequence of the traffic lights so that you always end up in pacoima. they're promoting retrograde somnambulistic knuckle crackers, scratching their names on cheese logs, incisors gone flaccid with gout. --they've hatched clouds of purple gnats who sail green atmospheres of noxious smokestacks spewing aerosol spam. . . (the meat has developed electrical activity gleaned from raincoat popes-- pro bono homeboys with shaved ankles & trippy ripstock--loading barges of stale tuna motors). --windows dissolve into puddles of aqua gel, admitting swarms of purple gnats intent upon nasal intrusion. . . mauve ooze flows from cell phone soaps, washing buckets of lipstick down bloody rivers replete with bogus fuchsia. . . chirping tires of wisdom howl songs of dinosaur thrash spasms, tar muck sticking fast to tv refrigerators. they're pontificating potato chip gospels, hawking bags of bowtie snakes for movie star styrofoam cupcake luncheons. their gelatinous adjectives give rise to snappy jingles extolling mountains of aromatic dogmeat wrapped in doom. they're sniffing lobbyists with obsolete pheromones, hairy snouts thrust aggressively against derisive gales of s.u.v. exhaust. they've sent your life to pluto! they've eaten up all the dirt down there @ the strip mall radwaste sweatshop boutique, their mandibles clacking with exclusive arachnid hormone injections, quantum prozak botox sitcoms & religions of vicarious annulment. they're taking the sky somewhere else! i'm getting sad watching my shoes walk away. i wish that they would deconstruct themselves with tuning forks!

hellhounds on my trail-- we woke after a night of antigravity partying to find the lunar dome surrounded by a wild pack of deadly mutant chihuahuas. oh no, here we go again, i don't need this . these nasty ratdogs are like a cross between a jackal, a piranha & a battle robot. a pack of them can take down a tank squadron. they annoy their prey to death by snapping @ their ankles & destroy their nerves with hideous barking. they can bite thru concrete. if you empty a laser cannon on one it just keeps on coming. the sound of their frenzied yapping had awakened us to a very long day. we had already begun to napalm them with stealth drones because the only way to kill a mutant ratdog is to disintegrate it down to molecular particles or else totally incinerate it to ashes. all we had succeeded in doing so far was to burn down a lot of synthoids. (each ratdog had a synthoid it led on a leash to wipe its tushy for it) & the smell of burning clones made a tire fire seem like a fragrant rosebush in comparison. the acrid smoke headache combined with my hangover left me in no mood to mess around. we needed to give these rodent canines THE BOOT. . i had barely got out of the airlock in my leather circuit battle catsuit when they swarmed me. we delivered the appropriate salute-- a swift jetboot in their stainless razor teeth that sent them flying over the lunar horizon. jetboots were made for getting around the lunar surface on antigravity skateboards but when you kicked a mutant ratdog with a jetboot it usually went into orbit. we didn't bother to shoot them, we just booted them offworld & were rid of their vile carcasses. sure, the corrosive radioactive green chihuahua blood put me in need of a shoeshine but do i look like i care? eat boot leather devil ratdogs from pluto!

bullshit--new age bulllshit (4x) now pythagoras tuned to 432 with a quartz guitar tuner he got at the music store now he couldn't play nothin' but you don't have to all you gotta do is tune to 432 bullshit--new age bullshit (4x) now captain beefheart was CIA along with morrison, zappa, and the rest of LA because a lot of the musicians that you may love had daddies who worked for the US gov and that proves with total certainty they're all MK ULTRA selling LSD and all musicians are brainwashed spies trying to program you with CIA lies bullshit--new age bullshit (4x) now i've got something new i'm gonna lay on you but it's been recycled it's just the old doo-doo it's the old poo-poo you're scraping off your shoe but it's all the rage 'cause this is a brand new age of bullshit--new age bullshit (4x)