Bus Driver Man - Screaming Females

Drowning yourself in a sea of distinary

And animals dead on their backs

You hurry to switchblade the maker of paper

With stitches that wind down her hat

Finally you have found a piece of mind

This is Satan’s song

You must sing along

In your shoes and the mistake of martians

That buzz in my brain like a seed

And a leech on the index of a holy subject

Will algebra bite

Till it bleeds