the way of who
Cold blooded Angels
Who know their instructions
Fighting Lucifer
With nirvana
Who eat sausages
Who eat minced meat
Who eat pink slime
On my table chopping board
All I care is pitchfork
Don't tell me what you like
Or I'll prick you
For obstruction of God
Who has a Plan for nothing
I got a screaming secret policeman
In my cell
God, you see me
I eat spaghetti from pitch
Thankful are those for your food
They are your experiment
I let my birds fly
Concerned with life
As are worms in their beaks
And goo in their guts
You are localized in traffic
Are you safe
In your mind
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