Turkeys

Far away from my land
and her suprior race
stranded on an island
lonely out in space.
Surrounded by beings
and inferior minds,
decryings, decreeings,
sticking it to behinds.
     Standing in a cornfield
     waving arms to the sun...
Inner limits expanded
crushing reality undone
urbane missions abandoned,
life's no more homespun.
Sent a message via satellite
beaming t. v. reversed,
should arrive in a fortnight
piggy-backed on Fred Durst.
     Standing in a cornfield
     waving arms to the sun...
     Standing in a cornfield
     waving arms to the sun...
Carving up a cornfield
giant arms in the sun
indicating a landing field;
come in on the run!
Standing in a cornfield
waving arms to the sun
location's revealed
wating for the Mutha-Ship to come...
waiting for the Mutha-Ship to come...
     Standing in a cornfield...
     Standing in a cornfield...
     Standing in a cornfield...

     Standing in a cornfield...
     waiting for the Mutha-Ship to come...

     (if you carve it, they will come)