when i see death coming
i cross the road
she waves at me
and yells, you dropped your purse
la la la la la
la la la la la
when i lose the stench of her appearance
i pull the fingers from my head
and go on my way
though i see from afar
how effective she's become
i walk with fingers clenched inside my head
merciful buddha-box, if it isn't Amerikan Hegemony!
