By the pricking of my thumbs
Something wicked this way comes
Look!
Down that bloody street, for bloody miles and bloody miles
Where bloody feet have sought a trail of dreams
That now lie broken on some bloody stake
That is branded “Ojo Por Ojo”
And runs beside it, there in the deep and the dark
Beyond the liquid corruption and the human fungus
Lies the reeking sewer that is a mind
Where the lesion hides a lesson
Where stigmata turns to stigma
Cries crescendo to cantata
The whiplash of suffering full in the face
And in that place there is no cross, no crown
No sacred ground
All is done and left unsaid
How the tongues were ripped, the people bled
And there it is written on the slug that is lead:
“Killing is company”
So step right up, and ride the rubber road to freedom
This is the blow off
