The highways (the slipstreams of half-sacks)
Are jammed up from pillar to post.
Night changes things.
Everything is foul and the filthy reign
The settlers are kicking off their shoes.
Flex those comets, bury that asshole
'Cos noxious obnoxious is guilty as Hell
Take those smokestacks to your lawyers
And smoke out the lot of them
Drown them all out.