Graet am eus beajou d'al loar

Harlo a chairdean, de bhur naidheachd, tha mo cheann gus sgoltadh leis a' chnatan mhallaichte seo. Tha e gam chumail bhuaibh mo leughadairean ghaolach, ach a-nise, seo daintean.

The Puppets walk and talk
And even sometimes sing
But I'm ashamed of their ploy
The bells will never ring
Over their scorched dust
As their graves are plundered for parts
And organ left in putrefaction
Reveals what's left of their hearts
They know nothing of the time
We spent deploying their charms
Our parasitical affection grows
And rings so many alarms
Their heads above the parapet
It's time to shoot them down
For growing like a canker
Upon the mind of the clown
Who feeds them with their fictions
So they can make it rich
Dismembering penises
Is how I spawned the bitch
Who sucked the blood of the innocent
Prostrate at my feet she lay
But I bid her farewell, I choose
To deliver her to death today
For sucking out my inclinations
And draining me of life
In time to come there will be no future
Except for what I planned; the strife

Earrann

Being a slave is just a habit
No truer word was said
But if wages treat you as if you're dead
Far better to be a rabbit

Or a pigeon although they're bastards
They don't ever have to work
Or obey, use knives and forks
No pigeon navy was ever mustered

It's time he said to take a flying fuck
To destroy the state's machinery
And become the kin of ducks

Good Lord he said I can't believe
The end I have in store
I'd rather be a lioness, and then I'd loudly roar

uile ri-cheile RRAWRR

Bha mi a' cluinntinn sgriach bhon ath-dhoras, tha mi'n dochas nach deach duine sam bith a ghoirteachadh, ach co-dhiu.