Torture (Let The Good Times Roll)

TORTURE (LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL) (K. McMaster) – 2:23

Torture is humane and comes in many forms,

Most of which disguise themselves as social norms,

Idle banter spit out on double chins,

Forced and faux inquiries of the state I’m in

To sit amongst these Heathens sipping herbal tea,

Fat, fictitious faces smiling, “Love the Brie!”,

To be amongst my kind, a source of so much pain,

A tedium of width and height I cannot say

Let the good times roll

The water fills my lungs as you sit and visit me,

I get the Bends from all this sick civility,

Let me be a pet, and bark, and have no voice,

And sit solemnly in the corner trying to lick my groin

Let me be a beast or some Neanderthal,

Mark my perimeter in piss to stave off predators,

A carcass freshly killed awaiting carrion,

This torture that I speak of I find in everyone

From the album MAID IN CANADA (PURCHASE HERE)

and the book SELF-ABUSIVE MUSINGS (PURCHASE HERE)

BUTTERFLY BUSH