Obsecene Procession

Can't you see 'em, in obscene procession?
Clad in fox fur or khaki, they're violent and insane
Pink and wobbling with all their possessions
Full of junk food and TV and booze
And bottles of pain relief pills and oh...

Don't you love them?
They make life hell here
And pray there's heaven above 'em

Can't you smell 'em in obscene procession?
Stink of bacon, defoliant, fear and small cigars
Whiffs of semen and adulterous confession
Mixed with money and those little air fresheners
Hung in their cars and wardrobes and oh...

Don't you hate
So full of hot air
They need some warfare
To deflate 'em

Animals beware
Knives and forks that glare
Never trust those caring humans
Being the worst
Especially when they're hungry
They make each other hungry
There's no need to be hungry
Not today

Can't you hear 'em in obscene procession?
It's called talking
It's how they betray their friends and more
Aren't you glad that you found out about them?
Aren't you glad that you never evolved up any more?