Production Lyrics

Production lyrics

This man may have a shit load to prove

He's got to settle a score against the groove

Infinite orgasm, endless joy and pain

Like thunder to my ears, like a holy rain



An aural wall of waking, a wash in purple paint

And a digging of the flowers in your yard

Electric rays of healing intensify the feeling

Of hatred towards the things you say I ain't



Fear a man-child, his soul and semen

Pathetic thoughts he thinks forever

Heard you caused a landslide, walking home

Saw you slide the man-child under your coat



Product of your generation

Product of your masturbation

Product of a master plan

Product of a holy man



Product of infanticide

Product of decaying minds

Product of your mass corruption

Product of, production, production