Ignore the epidemic- Just keep it under quarantine- An infection of the
flesh on suburbia's face- Let it hit outside air and die- Dig the ditch-
Push your children in- Omit- Sit idly by- Reality atrophies this beautiful
suburban town- so we put reality into the ground- Gasoline in your hand
as the bodies burn- A plastic disease, ceaseless denial- But when it slips
into your backyard will you put the match to your own child?- Sugarcoated
yet it festers inside- Just sit idly by as your children die- The
heroin-sedated lie parallel with you suburbanite conscience of "all is well".