If I knew for sure that I had a soul I'd sell it right now for the chance to experience Mother Earth's last gasp before she sinks into a perpetual episode of life support Clung to hope as the bastards of complacency and decent stand over us Carved from human bone by human bone Carved from human bone by human bone The magic wand of oppression waves above and occasionally bounces from skull to skull She's become the pig on the spit Salvation stuffed into her mouth like a rotted green apple We, the eager ants, wait below her and bask in her dripping fat No more audience No more audience Warm breath rises Boiled fat falls