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The Landfill

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The rhyme doesn't always have a reason The reason doesn't always have a rhyme Never resisting tongue twisting treason Never say a word and you'll be heard Come on in and join us in the landfill This is where you'll end up anyway Everyone down here is feeling ill Finally the junkyard has its day The mind is falling from the head as the mouth is laughing loudly The clock it goes tick and tock as it's arms are crushing sanity In the landfill feeling ill Feeling ill in the land fill Laxatives in need of constipation Are leading to relieving frustration Swimming in the streams of runny brown Are parasites that swallow it all down Pollution that taints the clear blue seas Spreading an incurable disease Cannot you hear the sound of silence In these gentle outbursts of violence? In the landfill feeling ill Feeling ill in the land fill Succumb to the scum inside your head a