Truck On Fire

(álbum: Soul Crusher - 1987)

Dead in the back. Midnight sun taking all that money
can buy human wreckage electrica man's first approach.
Death takes a ride taking a holiday.
Slick and clean a murder machine.
Tracks off the road skidding towards thunderhead.
Teasing the rail sparks from his brain slashing.
Yeah cribdeath, killing the craddle, crunching the baby in a dashboardlight.
Yea like some cheesy ass figurines,
Jesus, Mary, Joesph crushed into her fuck'n head,
sprayed against the windshield, profit or pleasure I swear I swear.
Blasting away a bitch in the back 18 yea 14 childbride sunshine sex.
Big day exit whiskey o'women winning winning spree so long.
Skin bone fabulous path fireball fun radio on cranking saying.
Somekind of portable radio melted into her screaming legs.
Keep on keeping, remote images, serious discomfort,
a story of more than cheap thrills,
incestous demonized desire made to be broken,
made to be broken, made to be broken....