Sneering at a leering lady
As she stares and squirms
At Wanda with her saintly smile
And living wig of worms
I like to watch their faces fall
As we disgust and shame them
Seeking suckers is my game
- no longer lion taming.
Like a pink and pregnant pumpkin
Perched upon her neck
Wanda Wadkins head was hurting
It was bitten by insects
I watched the awkward way she waddled
Walking to the pail
She always used to wash her worms
And clean beneath her nails
I love the soul I see inside her
But I just can't love her
Folding fat that rolls around
Like bowling balls in butter.
| 1 | Constantinople |
| 2 | Hello Skinny |
| 3 | Act Of Being Polite |
| 4 | Make Me Moo |
| 5 | Die In Terror |
| 6 | Santa Dog |
| 7 | Don't Be Cruel |
| 8 | Two Lips |
| 9 | Demons Dance Alone |
| 10 | Harry The Head |