'Don't want foresight' I scoff.
Cuz divination's barmy, should be scalded black.
They wanna rip us off.
Taking our dimes like fiends, while I lack.

Cuz I'm forking out five bucks per 'sight',
A pause, a panting breath...
Hag says 'Your future bites,
Soon rinds are nearing death.'

Was this message mumbled genuine,
Or heathen shit, dung?
Won't give the details of it.
Shoved her single bucks for the moral to help.
Turn up your nose and scorn it?
But she'd seen predictions in her pounds of pelt!

And she'd light matches, mumbling 'Mac your day,
Try the new service, it's cool'
I did faint, getting an idea,
That this was brainwash school.

Now she's peeling skin ala Brattones,
Says 'Fine and toned.'
Bile spewing in her witch hat,
She pours these cup-fuls into the store.

She's gonna bake me raw.
Make my sweat drip out for seasoned aroma.
And I'm flavouring, and I'm savouring, as I'm baking,
White skin is now charred.
All the kids are gonna greedily eat my grilled limbs,
Oh horror!
As my brains' bubbling frothy bloops
Sell me as McTones.