The highways (The Slipstreams of half-sacks)
Are jammed up from pillar to post Night changes things:
Everything is foul and filthy the 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