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 a**hole
'Cos noxious obnoxious is guilty as Hell
Take those smokestacks to your lawyers
And smoke out the lot of them
Drown them all out.