I Want My Thanatron!
Fuck your Western wires!
Fuck your hypocritical oath!
“Life passes us like a spring jasmine,”
the lapsed guru, he quoth!
Paging Doctor Kevorkian,
in trying times such as these.
“Barbarian”, they called him
with serpents’ voices in the toxic breeze.
But, you don’t know Jack!
Black Angel of Mercy with
snowflake strands ready to
revolutionize bliss with this device he provides.
The art of dying requires no last word.
So, salvage me from an agonizing life of pain.
Give me the gateway keys to assisted suicide.
I want my Thanatron!
I want my peaceful death!
I never want to worry about
sacrificing my immortal breath!
Fuck your so-called humanist rights!
You were never human at all!
Fuck your tentacle clutches,
for your sentence will be eaten before the fall!
The American way of avarice
is the pathway to physical hell.
They want to keep us above the soil
so our blood finances can ring the bastardized bell.
But, you don’t know Jack!
Darkest Angel of Death
with a scythe of comfort words,
ready to guide weakened souls through the out door.
I can almost taste the shades of afterlife green.
End these agonizing days of torment!
Put me under the saline spell of this miracle machine!
I want my Thanatron!
I want to die with elated grace!
I never want to worry about
leaving my mark on the world without an ambiguous trace!
Horror Sleaze Trash 