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Greasy Creek Lyrics

Where Jesus Christ is the Dixiejew
(He inched along like a creature too)
Cometrees grow out the stinkin' ditch
And the b*****-shins soak off the rickety bridge,
Floor-joists creek like the hinges of Hell,
And the head-count's high down the waterless well.
The foetal's met the fatal just a time or two
And the writin's wroten rotten on a plank of wood.
What was spoken light will be tested at night
Where the White Thang sings, the state bird b***s.
While you're diggin' up tiny extra rows of teeth,
Behold this fascist Killmachine.
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Agriā€¢dustrial (2010)
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