ALCATRAZ LABS

He's protecting his fentanyl trade
where it's made in a florida glade
by the government's slaves
who were preyed on by knaves
in the shade of an immigrant raid

There are young people, old people too
who are fed people steeping in stew
and the bones boiled white
grow a soiled appetite
as a blight grows among them anew

Oh, their feet full of sores reek of rot
as they tread vats of chemical snot
and they moan from the pain
while they're going insane
they complain of the strain they are wrought

With their eyes weeping blood, some will scream
when they wake in this inhuman dream
agents twist off their tongues
then rip out their lungs
as they're hung from a splintery beam

As the fentanyl flows through the gate
to the streets where the zombies await
so, the cash trickles down
to the president's town
all around, there is darkness and hate

The president's eyes are aglow
and his nose is a-burning with blow
his head's red with fire
and enfamished desire
his command demands chaos to grow

and the alligators, content
and the wonderers where people went
are an innocent part
when the workers depart
to the silence outside of their tent