The Press by Pig
It's a barrage of violence, sickness and shame
You struggle for your living and you're paying with pain
I read of the poor, and the women and the victims to blame
For the collapse of the country again and again
They're checking all the people
In all their holes
Whips and lashes and cuts back
To double standards, backhanders
It's a grey desolate country
But we're glorious again
He's peeling his banana while roasting your nuts
You've got to get your gums around his plums
He's going to modify your attitude
And customize your crawl
With the muck he prints
He's got to us all
Peoria
I met her in Peoria
250 lbs. of flabby harlot woman flesh
Is wobbling around the hotel room, farting
Mucus is dripping from her pig-hole nostrils into her mouth
Nah, streaming
Steaming, streaming great green rivulet
Her tounge makes sure no leftover chunks go astray, miss their mark
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