Earth-crack — out pops our little red man
eight good arms, the idiot magician
can't stop pulling rope from his arse
you'd think the wing-clapping audience
would grow wise to his tricks, but no —
seems there's one born every minute,
and one dying in every other,
why not get fat on death?
He chains his dinner
to his dinner to his dinner,
this homemaker's living room
is an abattoir!
