BUGS

Nothingness oblivion
Its just obliteration
Its baseless and its groundless
And ofcourse without foundation
Most morning pilots hit the skies
With chemicals galore
Forming crosses everyone
Their patterning for sure

Producing ugly pathways
Descending to the gound
The cadmium and aluminium
And other shit thats found
They call it geo engineering
Arrogance abroad
Spraying out of the back of jets
We get our just reward

Clouds none of them natural
Gods work clearly thrown
Into some confusion
For these idiots have sown
Uninvented striations
Dodo feathered lanes
The tories fail to acknowledge them
They annihilate our gains

Oh yes they are real and actual
Denied by the government who
Supposedly doesn’t tell lies
But we all know they do
Puppets in westmonster
Allowing shit to spray
Not only on the people
But on themselves each day

And who are these piss artists
The pilots that now fly
Who apparently Take their jets
Up into what is a blue sky
And act like silly buggers
Flying to and fro forming
Fucking crosses
We can all see from below

Sky fracking or chem trails
We all know the signs
But when we write about them
They say we have sick minds
Who dares to look into the sky
Our eyes were never meant
to question tory governments
We should be content

With poisoning each other
Feeling the nasty spray
Knowing we all catch rotten colds
Its all organised okay
Nothing else to worry about
Take your prescription drugs
Stop looking up into the sky
You we are no better than bugs!

In their eyes!